


Northern Wind

by SheNeverWantedToLeave



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Minor Grey Worm/Missandei, Minor Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Mutual Pining, Ned Stark (past) - Freeform, New Years, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Romance, Smut, because I don't do it any other way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 38,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28040622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheNeverWantedToLeave/pseuds/SheNeverWantedToLeave
Summary: When Missandei is able to pull Dany away from work for a fun-filled Christmas getaway at the Stark cabin with their old high school friends, six years after their graduation, an unexpected visitor makes a welcome appearance, igniting feelings old and new for both of them.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 140
Kudos: 229





	1. You are all four seasons rolled into one

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hello again!  
> This is a fun little second-chance-romance ditty I put together with some Christmas spirit. Just some fun times, hopefully you'll get some laughs in, all the fluff and of course, eventual smut. This is a two-parter, of which I'm currently about 1/3 or so done with the second chapter, which should be up within the next week or a little after. I was going to wait until I was 100% done with it but I'm just impatient. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

_You're the Northern Wind_  
_Sending shivers down my spine_  
_You're like fallen leaves_  
_In an autumn night_

__

_You're the lullaby_  
_Singing me to sleep_  
_You are the other half_  
_You're like the missing piece_

__

_Oh, my love_  
_Oh, my love_  
_Oh, my love_  
_You don't know what you do to me_  
_Oh, to me_

__

_You are all four seasons_  
_Rolled into one_  
_You're like the cold December snow_  
_In the warm July sun_

__

_I'm the jet black sky_  
_That's just before the rain_  
_Like the mighty current_  
_Pulling you under the waves_

__

_Oh, my love_  
_Oh, my love_  
_Oh, my love_  
_You don't know what you do to me_  
_Oh, to me_

__

_I'm the darkest hour_  
_Just before the dawn_  
_I'm slowly sinking_  
_Into the the slough of despond_

__

_Like an old guitar_  
_Worn out and left behind_  
_I have stories still to tell_  
_Of the healing kind_

__

_Oh, my love_  
_Oh, my love_  
_Oh, my love_  
_If I could just find you tonight  
_  
_If I could just find you tonight_  
_Oh, my love_

  
Northern Wind - City & Colour

* * *

Somehow, Missandei had convinced Daenerys to put in for time off for a little friend-filled getaway.

She thought she ought to be affronted by how swiftly her boss, Tyrion, approved it. Not five minutes after the request had been submitted did she receive a return email of its approval. It was a bit last-minute - she was almost certain it would have been denied based upon that anyway, but Tyrion assured her (two, then three times, because the guilt had set in. She  _ never _ took days off) that they would have plenty of coverage.

As the senior outreach specialist for human trafficking victims, it was a difficult job to pull away from. One, because the workload never ceased, and rightfully so. It meant they were doing good, proactive things. And second, it was easy to establish a mental and emotional bond with their clients; often enough they would become so attached to their assigned specialist that it was difficult for them to regain trust in someone not so familiar to their needs. But Dany had reassured all of her people that they were in safe hands, that all of them in the program wanted the very same things, the same outcome, which was to provide a safe permanent space for them.

As reluctant as Dany had been to detach for a bit, she did suppose three years straight with only four days off - due to catching a horrific bout of influenza that forced her to be bed-bound, probably her body telling her something - took a toll on her own wellbeing. The time off would be good for her.

The only thing was, Dany was a bit suspicious of the circumstances. 

"So...who's all going to be there?" She had asked Missandei, as casually as she could.

"Oh, you know. The usual old crew."

Dany narrowed her suspicion-ridden eyes at Missandei. They were making the trip up north, to the Stark family cabin for a week, concluding it with Christmas festivities. And while she was thrilled - ecstatic, actually - to see many of her friends she hadn't since New Year’s Eve after high school graduation, there was one particular person she couldn't decide if she was eager to see again, or afraid. Her heart seemed to agree that it was an equal measure of both.

"Usual crew as in... _ all _ of the usual crew?" Dany inquired, trying to keep her voice neutral, but Missi wasn't stupid. She was very well aware of what bush Dany was beating around.

Or, so she thought. Either Missi had mastered the art of lying, or she was totally truthful and equally convincing. “Yeah,” her friend said simply.

The look she gave her had her knowing that Missi knew of whom she spoke. Dany was suddenly unsure if she liked the sound of that.

She just wanted to be prepared, that was all. Nothing more, nothing less.

But fuck, what she would give to see Jon Stark again.

* * *

It was a three hour drive, tacking on a little extra time the further north they drove, since the terrain became more frigid and slick. Luckily, Missi owned an enormous tank with all-wheel drive, so the odds of sliding down the mountainside and catapulting into the depths of Long Lake were slim to none.

They had the heat blasting the entire ride, paired with a most excellent playlist they had put their heads together to create to make the trip a little less dull. Not that there was anything dull with the North - in fact, as much as her skin detested the climate, it boasted the highest honor of being the most beautiful landscape in the country, in her opinion. Rugged, rustic, tree-filled, mountain-strewn, and often everything was capped with snow, even up until their very mild summers.

She had spent much of her time in these parts, and the nostalgia was burning an ache of familiarity through her stomach. Some of her happiest memories - no, most of them - had happened here, in Winterfell, where she had become an honorable Stark. Her own family, which only consisted of her father, had been nearly fully absent in her life, and the Stark household had become more of a home than anywhere else during her teen years.

As had Jon Stark. More than anyone. And then he wasn’t. A mutual decision, but one of the most difficult ones.

Once they were far and away from the borderlands of Winterfell, she felt her chest relax a bit more, latching onto Missi’s itinerary that Robb had texted her the weekend before. There would be hiking (weather permitting, but they  _ were _ going to be smack in the middle of the mountains, not to mention nearing the height of winter), ice skating (to which Dany could already picture herself either a. Falling through the ice despite the frozen temperatures or b. Breaking a bone, maybe cracking open her skull), decorating the Christmas tree, endless supply of booze and food, Secret Santa gift exchange, and an abundance of good times catching up.

Dany’s stomach was beginning to swirl violently. There were so many people she held affection for that could possibly be there, if their busy schedules aligned just right. Missi claimed that most of the RSVP’s were a bit grey, and she wasn’t entirely positive herself of the specifics in terms of guests.

They drove up the rocky terrain, the hill so steep their backs were pressed flush to their seats, but it was a wonder to see it as it fell into view: the Ironwoods, tall and mighty as they were, disappeared into the chilly fog above them, but a light dusting of snow had swept over the earth. Just beyond, several hundreds of feet below, was Long Lake, gleaming duly against the overcast skies. A little further up, and they reached the gravel driveway, where a couple of frost-blanketed cars already sat.

A black Jeep Wrangler with the Stark family crest - a howling direwolf - had to have been Robb’s, and three other large SUV’s were lined up beside it. Though it was still early afternoon, Dany could still make out the strands of string lights edged around the lodge, spiraled around the railings of the wrap-around porch, evergreens surrounding them every which way.

Missi pulled them in to a stop, and then they unpacked their bags from her trunk and back seat. Dany looked around in awe, astounded by the romantic beauty of the place. Everything about it was jaw-dropping, no matter which way you turned. There was a couple of yards of relatively flat land until it dipped gradually downward, and just beyond the wispy haze, at the very bottommost base of the mountain and outward, was a small town. The dark buildings dotted the white land.

An enormous grin split across Dany’s face. “How is this real? I feel like I’m in a Hallmark movie.”

“Wait until you see the inside,” Missi’s eyebrows jumped, “Grey and some of the guys got here yesterday, he sent me some photos because my impatient ass needed something to get me through the work day.”

Dany smiled, following her best friend up the five steps unto the porch, dragging their luggage up with them. Missi didn’t even use a key, just turned the knob and then they were in - Dany supposed it was safe enough out here to leave it unattended - and…

She decided she wanted to move in here, permanently, pronto. The first floor was one enormous space, pretty much, rich wood flooring, wall-to-floor windows, stacked stone walls, a fireplace, numerous comfortable furnishings. Couches, loveseats, rugs, more Christmas decorations than she could count. A spiral staircase disappeared into the upper floor. There were various personal belongings scattered here and there - backpacks, keys, the odd glass or two.

“Where is everyone?” Dany wondered aloud, realizing how eerily quiet it was, save for their slow footsteps.

As it were, Missi had been checking her phone. “Grey says they went into town to grab a few groceries, but should be back in a few minutes. Shall we unpack?”

Dany nodded, still too busy gawking at their environment. She had to stop one more time to appreciate the view, which was near identical to the one outside, only within warmer quarters. Her legs forced her to follow Missi upstairs, where there were 4 bedrooms.

“Okay, I don’t exactly know the room situations, only that Marge and Robb definitely have one, Arya and Gendry-"

"Arya and  _ Gendry? _ " Dany gasped. "Seven hells."

She wondered how Robb and Jon took that, their little sister hooking up with one of their best friends. Dany vividly remembered the times when Arya would be caught gaping at him when he and the guys were hanging out, more notably when shirts would come off to swim or a sport would be played. Those times Arya would suddenly find interest in a game of football or feel a generous need to continuously bring the guys water and snacks.

Coincidentally, in the earliest time of Dany and Jon's blooming friendship, he'd not often participate. Usually it was the pair of them sitting on the sidelines playing referee or just watching and talking. He had been a bit self conscious for a time; he thought himself a bit on the lankier side, someone who preferred the company of computers to basketballs, but Dany anyways found that incredibly endearing. He was one of a kind, Jon Snow, not like any other man she ever knew.

When she first came here from Essos, the girl bullies had been horrid to her. One afternoon at lunch, a girl named Myranda had chopped off a chunk of Dany's hair, knowing that Dany had a presentation she had to give that week. Jon had been with her then, putting Myranda in her place before finding Dany curled up crying in the school's courtyard.

That day, he brought her back home - skipping the rest of their classes that day - where he tried to salvage the hack job, wherein Myranda had cut several quick chops and left the tresses deformed and uneven. Though she much preferred long hair, Jon had given her one of her favorite shoulder-length styles, although that was the last time it had ever been that short.

Their first year, Dany had bled through her jeans, and rather than partake in all of the giggling whispers, Jon had stood just outside of the bathroom as she cried in the stall. He had asked if there was anything he could do, if there was anything she needed, and somehow through her blubbering he made sense of her words. He'd leant her his hoodie to wrap around her waist, to hide the evidence that stained the denim, whilst she took care of the rest.

There had been countless noble Jon Snow moments she kept stored away in her memory. And, she hoped he had done the same with her.

The only room that appeared to be unclaimed was the last one, at the end of the hall. Dany set her bags down, not wanting to unpack until she knew for certain everyone had a place to sleep. And she definitely didn't want to share a bed with any couples.

The sound of voices somewhere outside caught their attention, descending the stairs until they reached the door. Missi pulled it open just as Robb and Gendry were approaching, hauling in multiple paper bags of groceries. 

Dany's face hurt from grinning so madly - they were all so grown up, all remnants of their teen years traded for defined facial structures and facial hair and muscle. She made her way down the line - Grey coming into view, and then Arya, squealing so shrill it echoed through the trees.

"Oh, my  _ gods! _ I didn't know you were coming!" Arya squeaked, practically throwing her entire petite self at Dany, arms winding tight around each other.

"Honestly I didn't know I was until a couple days ago," Dany huffed a laugh, "didn't think I'd be able to get away from work."

"Dany!" Marge's sultry voice cut in somewhere over by the cars - she was so inundated by Arya and all of her cold weather attire that she could barely see beyond her shoulder.

"Marge," Dany cooed, accepting another bear hug, her heart filling to the brim.

"You look marvelous," Marge breathed, pulling Dany's shoulders away to give her a magnified look-over.

"So do you," Dany returned, and she meant it - Marge was a far cry from the chubby faced, lanky teenager Dany remembered. Her hair was thick and gorgeous in its walnut hues, eyes a brilliant blue and sparkling, smile as mischievous as ever.

"I'm so glad you're here. Can you believe we graduated six years ago?" Her crystalline eyes widened, but everything fell away when Dany caught a familiar face far back, one so comely that her sixteen year old self would never have survived him now.

She barely had then.

Her heart pounded like a caged animal, vaguely aware of Gendry approaching Jon to mutter something, but he was as successful at reaching him as Marge was to her. It felt like everything suspended - time, memories, the people around them, her breath…

And then his perplexed look dissolved into one of joy, his hand rubbing over his chest a moment before Dany freed herself from Marge briefly and flung herself into his arms, an embarrassingly girlish yelp emitting from her when he clutched her close and lifted her square off her feet.

Her face hurt from smiling, her eyes becoming wet, but she kept her face hidden against his shoulder, even when she was back on the ground. She didn’t want to let go. She was confident that he could feel her heart pressing against her chest, through the very fabric of her clothes, maybe even reaching for his.

But, she supposed, it was either that or freeze themselves together out there. His hold loosened, hands still cuffing her upper arms as he held her away just enough to get a good look at her. What she saw in his familiar grey eyes left her knees weak, and her heart sore. 

“So,” he rasped, his eyes struggling on where to land, finally doing so on her eyes, a plume of mist clouding around his mouth, “what have you been up to?”

All she could do was shake her head, beaming, and embrace him once more, fully intending on taking advantage of doing so until she was forced otherwise.

  
  


* * *

She was still buzzing even when dinner had been plated and they had been seated, taking up a spot between Missi and Jon. She could  _ feel _ the fleeting stares on her, but she didn’t find it within herself to care. On top of it, she was eager to hear what all of her friends had been up to since last they were all together in one space, rather than communicating digitally in pieces at a time.

She also came to the very stark realization that she and Jon were the only non-romantically involved couple, and a niggling voice in the back of her mind, and a dormant hope lying buried in the depths of her heart, hoped that might change.   
  
Arya was finishing up a master's program in psychology, determined to work with refugees fleeing to the country from Essos. Gendry was a steel welder, often working on infrastructures like skyscrapers and standing hundreds of feet above the ground, the image of it alone making Dany sick to her stomach.

Marge was a legal secretary, working her way up while her wealthy grandmother was paying for her college tuition to get through law school. She and Robb reconnected somewhat recently, so here they were, smitten and hanging all over each other in the kitchen.

Once everyone tucked in, and easy conversation began between them, Dany turned to peer at Jon, speaking softly. “Are you still living here?”

“Aye,” he sat back a bit, a gentle smile tugging his pouty lips when their eyes locked.  _ So bloody pretty. _ “Not far from the house. You?”

Dany took a sip of her wine before looking at him again. His gaze was penetrating and paralyzing all at once, like he was just a kid again, with her. “Would you believe me if I said I’m in Torrhen’s Square?”

His lips parted open, a flicker of something akin to glee flashing over his face. Jon Snow was nothing if not subtle. “Huh.”

Brows raising in question, she shifted so she could face him better. “What does that mean?”

His mouth downturned and he shook his head. “Nothin’. Just surprised is all.” A coy smile danced on his lips. “You hate the cold.”

Dany snorted with a roll of her eyes, returning to her plate. “That will never change, but I can admire how beautiful it is here. More than anywhere else.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his mouth open to say something, but seemed to decide against it as he straightened himself and continued eating alongside her. A nudge on her left had her finding Missi giving her that wide-eyed, silent  _ well? _ , as if she and Jon had shared some exuberant information.

Dany leaned a little closer, further from Jon’s earshot. “Did you plan this?” She softened her question with a friendly smile, if only to assure her she was the furthest thing from upset about it.

Missi muffled her voice with her cup at her lips. “Let’s just say that the stars aligned this year.”

“Whatever that means,” Dany frowned, taking a hefty drink.

The rest of dinner went by without a fuss. Dany felt warmed to her bones, jumping between different topics and discussions. It made her realize, sitting at the table, how alone she had been for so long. When she was in that element, used to the constant grind of her daily routine between work, self-care, and overall adult responsibility, she didn’t think she minded. But now that she was in this circle again, of familiar faces that were no longer pimple-faced, troublesome, hormonal, loveable teenagers, but rather successful, spirited, still-loveable adults, her loneliness felt exacerbated.

“You alright?” Jon asked, his eyes searching hers.

“Yeah,” she said with a small nod, “I just missed everyone.”

“We missed you,” he muttered, for her ears only for as hushed as he spoke it. She could not help but to think, to know, that  _ we _ meant  _ I _ .

Her heart thumped violently, and she was suddenly grateful for Arya’s abrupt disruption just as her eyes began to sting.

“It’s knackered games time,” she announced vibrantly, earning cheers from Marge and Missandei as they left the table to gather in the family room - which was just one large attachment to the kitchen.

Arya spread out a series of board games to choose from along the coffee table, two tall mountains worth of varying genres. Gendry and Robb argued over why monopoly was or was not the worst, how Robb was too skilled in cheating his way around the game. Jon complained that it was too long anyway, but Dany knew it was because they both knew how to cheat the game and it was useless to even try to take them on - even if it wasn’t meant to be a team effort.. Poker was a solid no from the ladies, while the guys shut down any thought of trivial pursuit.

By the time they decided, Dany was halfway through her glass filled the new bottle of wine Arya broke out, sitting beside Margaery until Arya shouted that they would start with charades.

It was simple enough, a classic go-to, split off into pairs, with Arya shooing Dany off on Jon. It remained that way for each game, and several different voices began to pipe up that they had an unfair advantage and should be split apart, that they were this way when they were kids. Jon was just as ruthless as she was in finding ways around the rules, and the continuous flow of alcohol only fueled their ambition. But, alas, they conceded to play fair. Jon and Robb switched the ladies, but Dany was pleased to find Marge was probably even more competitive than anyone else in the room, including herself.

Once they became burnt out on physical board games, they progressed to video games. Mario Kart turned them all into raging lunatics, going from following the point of the game to just trying to obliterate each other with in-game weapons. Gendry was the most aggressive and terrible, determined to turn into a digital version of bumper cars and knocking everyone off the course with little to no remorse.

By the time they reached their fourth conquest in Loaded Questions, everyone was on their fourth and fifth drinks. Dany tied up her hair to keep it off her neck, the endless bouts of laughter making her skin clammy. Jon had reclaimed his seat beside her, so Robb could reclaim his wife - or so it looked to be that way.

Arya plucked the first card, her words beginning to slur together in cursive. Just like the previous couple of games, rather than following the actual instructions, it turned into a Q&A session. Naturally, it was mutually agreed that they participate in the most potentially destructive theme.

“Which male and female celebrity would you consider having a threesome with?”

Dany wracked her mind, trying to actively picture herself shagging and getting shagged between two celebrities.

All she could think of was Jon, and she had to blink several times to shake it from her head and concentrate before she blurted out the words  _ Jon Snow _ .

“I’ll go first,” Arya stated, “it’s a no-brainer: Chris Evans and Emma Watson.”

“Ooh, nice,” Marge concurred.

“It’s gotta be Rachel McAdams and Taylor Lautner,” Robb threw in, and Dany spluttered her drink, hovering over her cup so as not to make a gigantic mess. Of herself or her drink.

“The guy from Twilight? Really?” She squeaked, thus making the table snort and chortle, wet laughter from their increasingly intoxicated brains.

Robb scoffed at the lot of them, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “Please, like you weren’t happy he was shirtless for eighty percent of those movies.”

“You watched all of them?” Marge asked, poking her husband’s ribs relentlessly.

“All because Arya had a manic Twilight phase,” he argued.

“For all of five seconds, until that stupid dream sequence in the last movie. What a waste. Anyway, Missi? Grey?”

Missi folded her hands in her lap. “Oscar Isaac and Kate Beckinsale."

"Damn, that’s good. Uuhhh," Grey tilted his head left to right, "Margot Robbie and James Dean.”

“Hot,” Marge said, lifting her glass toward him.

Jon scratched at his beard, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling in thought. “Shit, I don’t know...definitely Brad Pitt. And...Keira Knightley.”

“I hope you mean, like, Fight Club Brad Pitt, because he’s a little washed up now,” Arya countered.

“Some of us aren’t that shallow,” Jon retorted, while Arya screwed up her face and stuck her tongue out at him. “Still leagues better than Taylor fucking Lautner.”

“Sorry, hun, I have to agree with Jon,” Marge sighed, leaning into Robb’s disgruntled self.

Jon gave Dany a pointed look to take her turn, brow lifted with eager curiosity. “Henry Cavill and Kate Beckinsale.”

A low whistle sounded from him, and Dany dramatically flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder with a giggle.

“Could you imagine their kids? Seven hells,” Arya said, then nudged Gendry with her elbow none too gently as he grunted in its wake, “hurry up, you’re holding us up!”

“I don’t even follow celebrities,” he whined, tossing his hands up, “gods, I don’t know...Mark Ruffalo and...Celine Dion.”

“What the fuck?” Arya smacked his arm with a scowl. It was no wonder, to Dany, who wore the pants in their relationship, but it was clearly all in good fun - Gendry appeared to enjoy riling her up. The rest of them snickered into their drinks as Gendry tossed his arms up again, going on about how he was sorry he wasn’t in the loop with pop culture as much as everyone else. “It’s okay, we still love you,” Arya said, cuddling up against him as she moved on to the next card. “What do you consider to be the physically sexiest part of a woman?”

“Ass,” Robb shot off straight away, almost before the last word had been uttered.

“Figures,” Arya said wryly.

“Eyes,” Jon said, taking a hefty swig of his drink. For a beat, his eyes pinned to Dany’s, making her shift in her seat next to him, lowering hers to the table.

“That’s so sweet,” Marge drawled, mouth downturned into a pout, “I have to go with hands.”

“Please don’t elaborate on that,” Jon pleaded with a shake of his head after she had given Robb a pointed look, sitting back against the couch.

Marge wiggled satisfactorily in her seat with a wicked grin, eyebrows bouncing toward Robb, whilst Arya mumbled something about regretting this game and maybe Apples to Apples would have been a safer bet.

“Smile,” Dany and Arya agreed in unison, knocking fists.

“Eyebrows,” Grey said, leaning over to peck Missi’s full ones.

“I like eyes,” Missi said matter-of-factly with a nod, air high-fiving across the space to Jon.

Everyone set their eyes on Gendry. “You are absolute shit at this, aren’t you?” Arya needled, jabbing his ribs.

“ _ Eyes _ ,” he practically growled, muffling Arya’s complaints with a sloppy kiss to her mouth.

“Could we maybe tone down the PDA to, like, a zero?” Robb suggested, shielding the view of his sister and Gendry snogging by placing his hand up to his face.

Dany settled back into the couch, dully noting that something warm and firm was over the cushion, and becoming hyper aware of the fact that it was Jon’s arm. Neither of them moved, and in fact, she felt his thumb brush over her sweater-covered shoulder.

“Let me try,” Marge said, leaning forward to take up the next one, clearing her throat. “What puts you to sleep at night?”

“A good fuck,” Robb said, sluggishly, downing the rest of his half-full glass in two gulps. Dany had a feeling he was going to not be feeling so well in the morning.

Everyone groaned at his response. “I’m beginning to regret this entire thing,” Jon mumbled.

“You just can’t say shit like that and get on  _ my _ case about making out with my boyfriend,” Arya tossed a piece of cheese square at her brother’s chest, from the spread that was displayed over the coffee table.

While they went back and forth in their bickering, Dany could feel the effects of the alcohol buzzing through her, and with that came a little extra courage. She scooted closer to Jon, until their legs touched, then laid the side of her head against his shoulder. Even amongst the sibling rivalry going on, she could hear and feel Jon sigh, smiling when his arm dropped to curl around her shoulders.

She was so content then, she had nearly dozed off after a few moments, until Arya practically shook her brains to wake her up, igniting a whine from her, turning away from the offender to bury her face into Jon. In her haze, she didn’t realize she was completely nuzzled into his neck, a searing heat spreading over her cheeks.

“Come on, party pooper, we’re playing Twister,” Arya tugged on Dany’s other arm, “winner gets to pick the loser that has to take a dip in the lake. Naked.”

She rolled her face away from Jon’s warm skin, hoping he wasn’t taking note of hers that was rightly flushed, her brow wrinkling at her little friend who had her hand on her cocked hip. “That sounds like the worst idea you’ve ever had. Are there even any hospitals nearby?”

Arya snorted, booping Dany’s nose with her finger. “It isn’t Stark tradition if every cabin guest doesn’t end up in the lake. Especially as an honorary Stark yourself.”

Jon chuckled at that, and Dany sighed, though not without a warm smile. The idea horrified her, but that only propelled her competitive side.

* * *

It had been going so, so well. Perhaps too well.

They agreed on seven rounds, rotating teams of three - the maximum they could fit three fully-sized adults on the vinyl mat. And it was fucking hysterical. Robb laughed himself to the point of vomiting, though luckily he had made it to the kitchen sink rather than sharing all over the carpet, or the game board. Or any of them.

He was immediately disqualified for that purpose.

Arya had the advantage of her slightness, giving her more flexibility to work around other bodies in her way, and she had managed five rounds before her knee buckled and touched to the floor, leaving her lying stomach-first to give her limbs a rest.

Marge had been eliminated after the first go because she thought she’d be capable enough to hold her tumbler in her hand whilst bending herself into a downward dog position. Grey and Missi collapsed in the third, which left Gendry, Jon, and Dany for the final cycle.

At present, Dany’s head was trapped between both men’s asses, and she was laughing so hysterically she was teetering dangerously losing her balance, and thus the game, her feet and hands planted beneath her. 

Gendry erupted in a watery snort. “Fuck! I drooled. Don’t slip on that. Or maybe you should.”

Jon grunted, though Dany couldn’t see his exact dilemma unless she peered beneath her, upside down, all the blood rushing to her head and making the room spin horrifically for a moment.

Arya played referee, hardly understandable through her girlish giggles. She spun the spinner, a cacophony of squeals emitting from her, followed by Robb and Missi who were apparently standing over Arya’s shoulder.  The godsdamned peanut gallery.

“Hurry the fuck up!” Jon pleaded, shifting his legs and bumping the side of his arse against Dany’s head.

“Get your ass out of my face,” Dany butted him over with her head, yelping when her wobbly legs nearly toppled over with her.

“That’s cheating,” Jon accused.

“Okay, okay,” Arya wheezed, “right hand on red.”

Dany’s eyes searched the mat, her mouth falling open. “ _ What?! _ ”

“Ah, fuck,” Gendry groused.

“What the shit…?” Jon said.

“Okay, hold on. Jon, I have to...I have to put my head between your legs,” she giggled stupidly despite herself, hanging her head to try and collect some of her dignity and her breath.

“Rather you than Gendry,” he replied cheekily, and if she was just a quarter bit more sober - and willing to risk forfeiture of the game - she would have lifted a hand to give him a good smacking on his bum. Arya and the rest of them were beside themselves at their predicament.

But, alas, she was  _ not _ going to lose, because she was  _ not _ skinny dipping in those icy waters. Gendry and Jon made their moves, and Dany held her breath as she slid her head between Jon’s spread thighs, so that it looks as though he were giving birth to her through his back end.

Everyone was breathless for several minutes straight, tears pouring down their faces. Danys’ arms were shaking, and she had to beg Arya to hurry up and call the next move, her body twisted at the middle. She was going to fucking kill the little brunette, even if she didn’t have control over the instruction.

...or did she?

There was no time to stew on it, however, because the next call had Jon collapsing over her, therefor bringing both of them down and declaring Gendry the winner. In recompense, Dany lifted Jon’s leg over her head, so that his crotch was no longer over her neck, jamming her fingers mercilessly into all of his leg and arm crooks for losing the game for them. With his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, he captured her wrists and pulled her down over him, caging her against his chest so she could no longer assault him.

Out of breath and most of her energy, she went limp, throwing in the proverbial towel. “I hate you,” she said affectionately.

His cheek coming to rest atop her head, he sighed. “You wish.”

“Alright, so who went down first?” Missi pondered aloud, “Because I’m pretty sure I saw Dany’s elbows touch at the same time Jon’s did.”

"Jon did!" Dany exclaimed, desperate.  _ I am not getting in that water. _

"Gendry kneed me in the balls," Jon deflected. Dany snorted.

"I think as winner I should decide," Gendry avowed, making a show by puffing out his chest.

"I'll do it," Jon said, sitting up and taking Dany with him until he stood them up with a warble.

"Or, better yet," Gendry wagged his finger, "both of you. Dany's christening."

The room filled with  _ ooo's _ , but Dany was shaking her head vigorously. "No  _ way _ !"

"I don't know, Dany," Jon's traighterous voice came, and she planted her hands on her hips. He shrugged all so innocently. "It  _ is _ tradition."

_ I hate you _ , she mouthed, which only ignited a sly smirk  _ and _ fucking  _ puppy eyes _ . She tossed her head back, decidedly a bad idea as she nearly took her entire self down with the movement, but braced herself on the couch.

When she looked over to her side, six pairs of twinkling eyes gaping at her. "Okay, fine," she begrudgingly agreed. " _ But, _ no audience."

"We need a witness," Marge practically whined.

"Jon can be my...witness…," she trailed off, realizing with just a little horror, and a niggling excitement and nervousness, that he was going to see her totally nude. And she, him. Although they'd be in the pitch of night, the moon long risen, the clouds had given way to a quarter moon, it would be just enough that they would be illuminated.

A prickly chill unrelated to the weather trickled down from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet.

Gods, if her head went any more off kilter...maybe the shock of Long Lake would do her some good.

* * *

Robb gathered them both several thick, plush cotton towels and robes. After Jon and Dany were bundled up in their clothes and boots, arms filled with the towels, the rest of their friends stampeded upstairs to fight over who would get the best window view of them out at the lake. They would only be able to spot their silhouettes, but it would be enough to know they stayed true to their word.

_ Sometimes I wonder if we ever aged past fourteen? _

She was already shivering the first few steps into the crunchy yard, or what constituted as a yard - it was mostly a steady decline of a massive hill that disappeared into the lake.

There was a dull thud behind them, and then a voice - Gendry’s, to be exact, shouting, “don’t worry, you guys can get naked in the hot tub afterwards! Perfect opportunity!”

“Fuck off,” Jon called back, the cackles of their friends disappearing as they closed whatever window they managed to holler out of.

But Dany wasn’t too dismayed, mostly because there was an instant source of warmth to look forward to. “There’s a hot tub?” She breathed, digging her heels into the ground so she wouldn’t tumble down and break something.

“You didn’t see it? It’s probably the best view in the house,” he mused. Dany kept close to him, the shadows cast by the trees somewhat obscuring the glow of the moonlight and making her buzzed head feel she might get her foot caught in a root or something similar.

“No, I didn’t get a chance to look around much,” she said, slightly breathless on the decline, until it finally flattened out. The grassy earth graduated into the water, which had not yet frozen over for the evening. “This is such a terrible idea. Is there a hospital nearby?”

Panic was setting in now - what if she had some unknown underlying health condition she didn’t know about, and the temperature fucked her up? Or, hypothermia?

Before she registered it, they had stopped - or rather, Jon had, and she almost bumped into him. He turned to face her, so close that the plumes of mist from his mouth nearly reached her face. “You don’t actually have to do it, Dany. Everyone is probably too knackered to remember anything by the morning, anyway.”

A small, trembling smile lifted her lips. His eyes were gleaming in the limited light, reminding her of sparklers on a warm summer night. She shook her head, a tiny gesture. “I’ve committed now, Jon Snow. Plus, it wouldn’t be like us if one of us bailed on the other, would it?”

Little crinkles formed at his eyes, a flash of teeth bright in the dark. “No, it wouldn’t. Promise not to look,” he nodded toward her, and she could only roll her eyes, but that was half the reason for her tremors.

Some distance was put between them, though she was almost inclined to stay close to him, if not to absorb whatever body heat she could before making the plunge. Not that it would matter in a minute, and anyway, that was maybe a little forward.

For now.

She trained her eyes on her several layers of clothes. Jon was a little out of arms’ reach from her, so one glance his way would probably bring her to her knees. The concentration she put into undoing zippers, buttons, and peeling off thick material should have been rewarded for how hard she was avoiding getting a glimpse at him.

She could already tell, through his black fitted sweater and jeans as painted on him as hers, that his physique was muscled, lean, and cut.

The moment she was down to her bra, her pants not yet shed, she drew in a sharp lungful of air, then decided there was no time to make this a process. In record speed, everything was dropped to a heaping pile at her feet, crossing her arms over her breasts, her thighs squeezed together to preserve heat.

From her peripheral, pale skin reflected to her left, and she could just make out his legs relieving themselves from his jeans.   
  
“ _ Woohoo! Nice ass!!!” _ Someone yelled from afar, the shock of the sound momentarily making her forget she was meant  _ not _ to swivel her head that way, but it was too late: her eyes caught on Jon Snow, in all of his naked glory, his hands cupped over his private bits, his eyes locking on hers as he seemed to have made the very same mistake.

For one painful beat, it seemed they were waging war on who would slip up first and let their gaze fall downward, but to her astonishment, neither broke. “Ready?” He asked, a hesitant grin dancing on his lips. It didn’t sound like he was nearly as affected by the cold as she was, his voice sounding about as normal as it had been inside.

Dany nodded fervently, expecting some delay, but Jon sprinted off, not toward the water, but at  _ her _ , his strong arms hoisting her up in his while she squealed. The air was biting on her skin, arms clutching around Jon in a vice, and the moment they were submerged, there was nothing but whole-body shock to her entire system. By some miracle, she hadn’t inhaled a mouthful of water once she went under during her natural reaction to gasp greedily for air. They were resurfaced a moment later, grateful they were still shallow enough that her feet could touch the bottom, else she knew she didn’t have it in her to use her limbs to swim properly.

“Holy shit!” She screeched, voice breaking at Jon who was up to his shoulders, just as she was.

It sucked more than anything, yet they were both laughing hysterically, spurred on by their bodies shivering incessantly. She thought she was going to die if she didn’t get out soon, so she sought out her nearest source of warmth, once more as she waded over, and he met her in the middle, collecting her bridal style again as she latched on much like a sloth would a tree..

The skin to skin contact did little to relieve the cold, but it warmed her heart, their breaths coming out in shallow, harsh pants until they were on dry ground again.

Gently, he set her down on her feet, the first thing he worried himself over being wrapping her snugly in the towels, keeping his head turned away from prying and doing so half blindly. She would have told him it didn’t matter if she could trust her voice to work. He tucked a towel around his waist, bundling his upper half before he was unexpectedly scooping her up again, raspy, quivering voice muttering something about worrying about their clothes tomorrow.

Heat washed over them when they returned back inside, greeted by a symphony of cheers, Dany’s teeth clacking when she attempted a smile. Jon was on a mission, carrying them off upstairs, until they were then inside the most beautiful bathroom she had ever seen in her life.

It resembled something more of a spa room, if it weren’t for the walled off toilet and shower area. Floor-to-ceiling windows started from one corner and took up half of two walls. If it hadn’t been nearly eleven, she was familiar with the location enough to know it would offer the most incredible mountain views, The hot tub was on a raised wood platform, the jets roaring and calling her name.

“I’ll go grab some clothes for us,” Jon said, carefully lowering her onto the platform before she could tell him to wait and get warm first.

Tossing off the towels, she stuck her feet in first, her skin erupting in gooseflesh and making her gasp, slowly dipping further in until her chin touched the water. The steam rolling off warmed her face, her skin feeling numb at the temperature change. She tilted her head back, the heat a hot tickle against her scalp, then pressed her back against one of the walls.

Jon returned a minute later, closing the door behind him and dropping a heaping pile of clothes to the floor. He still hadn’t removed his towels; she had expected he might throw on shorts or swim shorts, but she barely averted her eyes before he was stripping them away to hop in. He was as desperate for warmth as her, despite his northern blood.

He disappeared beneath the water, popping back up and swiping the water from his face and combing his hair away from his face. All she could see were his broad shoulders and smooth chest, but fuck, the sudden realization of how intimate this was made her head rush.

“Feel better?” He asked, still a little winded.

Dany nodded with a soft smile. “You?”

“Loads. I forgot how shitty that was,” he chuckled, his cheeks turning a lovely pink from the rising steam. She could feel her eyes growing heavy, exhaustion seeping into her bones. If it were possible without the risk of drowning, she’d consider curling up with her head on the floor and sleeping right where she was.

“It was a fun shitty, though,” she said, his brows rising just a hair, taken by surprise.

Then a goofy grin split across his face. “It was.”

She had the most desperate urge to curl up with him again, but as the absence of clothing was a current hindrance, she’d have to settle for where she was. Plus, she wasn’t entirely certain what was going to happen, where they might be going, if anywhere, with their relationship. She had many, many high hopes, but she didn’t wish to suspend them too high. She still wanted - needed - to catch up the last several years with him. He might not want the same things as her, though that sour thought barely held any water. She could tell just by the look in his eyes, how he regarded her with just as much warmth as he did back when, how eager he was to hold her just as she was him.

He crossed the tub to take up a spot beside her, sitting on the built in bench. "Tell me what you've been doing the last six years."

Dany exhaled slowly, her muddled brain conjuring up a life synopsis. "Let's see...I graduated from Pentos University with a dual major in psychology and sociology, on top of that internship that you already know about." 

He hummed with familiarity, eyes burning holes through her with how intently he was absorbing her every word. She smiled, watching a series of bubbles from the tub jets in front of her.

"I've pretty much spent the entire time working up to where I am now."

Jon lifted his brows, urging her on. Her cheeks burned, fighting off a smile. He knew precisely where this was going. It was a common topic of discussion before they had agreed to go separate ways, their dreams, all the things they aspired to do and to be.

And that maybe someday, fate would have them meet again, when they achieved what they'd set out to do. When all the stars aligned, as Missandei had said.

And here they were. Yet, she couldn't help but be afraid, horrified by the idea that making the leap to turn their friendship into something more would throw their delicate peace off its axis. She didn't want to ruin it. That, she thought, would break her heart more than anything else. Making their relationship irredeemable.

"I did it," she beamed with a nod, "the trafficking agency. It's still working through some growing pains, but I'm happy with it. Really happy with it."

Jon's face brightened like a lit up Christmas tree. "Dany, that's fucking amazing," he said with such reverence that she had to break their gaze, leaving the question she'd been dying to ask since her brain registered that he was truly a physical presence, and not her imagination.

"What about you?" She lifted her brows a bit, hopeful as she gathered her wits enough to seek him out again, "did you find your happiness?"

His jaw did that thing again - the hesitation as his jaw opened, closed, the muscles there protruding. His eyes were molten silver, warm like liquified metal, drifting down her face until they settled on her lips, lingering for a beat, the water becoming their landing spot. A small, insincere smile pulled on his lips. "I did. Only very recently, though," he drew in a breath, "after dad died, he left Robb some things. This place, his law firm, the big house. He didn't want the firm - he was happy where he was, so I took it, since I was familiar with the field and it was a perfect opportunity. He didn't want everything, definitely didn't want to manage two houses, so…," he lifted his hand and swept it across the air, "he let me take this."

Dany's eyes bugged. "This is  _ yours? _ "

A sheepish smile grew on his face with a tiny nod. "Aye."

There was something, or some  _ things _ , lying under the surface there as his expression became distant. She had a thousand questions, but first she wanted to know of his joys and everything else. "Do you like it? Being in the law firm?"

"I do, actually," he grinned, "I thought I'd find it insufferable once I actually began practicing, but luckily dad left behind a decent enough reputation that I can be choosy about my clients. Don't have to defend complete pieces of shit if I don't want to, which I never do. Never have."

Dany smiled - it should be silly how she feared that time may have changed him, hardened him beyond recognition, but Jon Snow was very much still there. Vivid and alive and next to her. Naked. Which she continued to forget about in their peace.

She blinked a few times, tried to see beneath the bubbly, frothy surface of the ever moving water for his hand, not wanting to accidentally grab something  _ else _ and traumatize both of them. To be safe, she closed the miniscule space between them and laid her head against his shoulder, the feel of his cheek settling atop her head making her giddy with glee.

"How is Cat?" She asked, her heart giving a start when she felt him go a bit rigid. Tilting her chin up a bit, she searched him, his mouth slightly downturned.

Taking in a breath, he cleared his throat. "Okay, from what I hear."

Dany's brow wrinkled with wonder - he and Cat had not been the closest, but lived together on neutral-friendly territory. Still, he held at least enough affection for her, especially after Ned's passing when they were seventeen, that she wouldn't expect such a melancholy reaction from him. Lifting her head gently, she brought up her hand and brushed her fingers against his coarse beard. "What happened?" She inquired softly.

There was a small pause. He leaned into her touch before collecting her hand and, to her surprise, pressed a kiss to her knuckles before settling their joined hands between them, where their legs touched. She tried to even out her breaths, since she stopped doing so until he spoke again.

"Dad's death wrecked her," he frowned thoughtfully, "she became a whole different person, like the trauma just...devoured what was left of her warmth. She didn't show that side of her to me that often, which I learned to live with, as you know," he tilted his face toward her with a glancing smile, then stared forward. "But she supported me when it counted. Until she found out Robb and I split dad's belongings between one another - some went to Arya and Sansa, of course, but the most meaningful things...that was the first time she went off on me. Said how I never belonged there, I should have been sent to a foster home."

Dany felt her heart crack, racing in her chest, her eyes dampening. No words could ever heal such abuse, so she squeezed his hand and fixed her chin onto his shoulder. A small gesture of support. 

Another breath seeped into his nose. "It went on for a while. I eventually moved out, obviously, but I was stuck there until I could get enough clients, bring in steady money. Robb was with Marge and I didn't want to impose on them and their privacy. But the worst…," he swallowed hard, "was on dad's death anniversary two years ago, and she screamed at me, telling me it had been my fault that my whore of a mother had crashed her car. That if I hadn't been crying and wailing in my car seat, maybe she could have concentrated on the roads and the snowstorm better, and avoided…," he shook his head, a jerky movement, as Dany's eyes freely shed tears to mix with his already damp skin. "Everything."

Before he could give it a moment's more thought, to even begin considering that he was at all at fault - even if he had plenty of time to do so before now - she cupped her hand over his cheek and turned his face to see her. Her tone was firm, a severe contrast to the pain she felt and knew he was, too. "Listen to me, Jon. You don't believe in that bullshit for even one second, do you hear me? Ned had the police report, and a witness, remember? You were two years old. A reckless asshole was responsible for all of it,  _ not you _ ."

Her blood was on fire now, voice trembling. 

Dany remembered the story well enough. It had been Robb's fifteenth birthday, and a bunch of friends were staying at the Winterfell house - herself included. A house riddled by fourteen and fifteen year olds, but Ned Stark loved every single second of it. They had a sleepover, and in the middle of the night, Dany had wandered her way down to the kitchen for a glass of water, and found Ned sitting at the counter in the dim under-cabinet light. She and Ned had grown very close, very quickly - her own mother had died birthing her, and her father was a mentally absent alcoholic. Basically an extension of the couch he barely ever left. Ned fulfilled the parental role so effortlessly, it made her realize the magnitude of how much she longed for that sort of relationship. Winterfell became more of a home in more ways than one, hardly ever staying with Aerys when she could avoid it, which was almost full time.

_ “Does your wife know you’re sneaking donuts alone at two in the morning?” She had teased against Ned’s hand-caught-in-the-cookie jar expression, a donut whole frozen halfway up to his mouth. She had taken it upon herself to retrieve a glass from the cabinet, giggling at Ned’s put-on pout - that was where Jon must have gotten it from - filling her glass with the water dispenser at the refrigerator before joining him on his neighboring stool. _

_ He swished his finger in the air between them, mouth stuffed as he spoke. “No, and it will remain that way.” At that, he plucked another from the box he was hoarding and dropped it into her hand. _

_ She was the furthest thing from hungry, her mind and body not quite entirely awake, but she loved the man, one of the sweetest souls in the known world, so she accepted it anyway. He was used to keeping their pantry stocked to the brim with teenagers constantly in, out, and living there, anyway - an open-door policy that was so foreign to her, but that gave her her found family. Her only family. _

_ It was difficult to see from afar, in the limited light, but the skin around his eyes were pink and puffy. It was easy enough, then, to understand that he was grieving over something, and donuts just-so-happened to take the brunt of his emotional warfare. “You okay, Mr. Stark?” _

_ His face dropped, nudging the box away from him, more toward her. He was waging whether or not to share his thoughts, a tight, strained smile spreading over his kind face, his elbows planting atop the counter while he pressed his clasped hands to his chin. “Has Jon ever spoke of his mother to you?” _

_ That was probably one of the last things she expected to hear, but she also didn’t know what to expect. Perhaps something along the lines of Robb growing up, gaining another year. “Yes. Not in great detail. He gets really down, but they were both in the car driving home during one of the worst snow storms the north had seen in years. A man hit them...Jon survived.” _

_ She swallowed the knot threatening to strangle her. It was terrible and tragic enough that Lyanna had been lost, but to think Jon would never have been in her life… _

_ Ned made a sound resembling a grunt of affirmation, his eyes lost and fixed somewhere off in the kitchen. “He was high, that other driver. Some sort of stimulant, I can’t quite remember. In his twenties, same as Lya. He went to prison for the rest of his life. The witness who happened across her car shortly after…,” tears pooled in Ned’s eyes, and Dany blinked back ones of her own, reaching forward to steal one of his hands to hold. “She attested that Lya managed to...to unravel herself from that twisted steel to comfort Jon. He had a few bumps and bruises, but the car seat saved his life. The lover of his mother probably did, too. She died holding his hand.” _

_ Ned dropped his forehead to his quivering hand, sniffing, and Dany thought it useless to not let herself mourn, as well.  _

_ “In court,” he continued hoarsely, fighting to keep his voice low to not rouse anyone from sleep, “the witness and police had testified that the man who had hit their car head-on was going three times above the speed limit in dry conditions. Imagine that but in a half foot of snow. A blizzard, no less.” _

_ Dany’s eyes scoured the counter, reaching over to drag the napkin tray between them and offering him one first. He murmured his thanks, blowing his nose. “Anyway. Today is the anniversary of her death. Thirteen years, gods. This is usually the only time I can let myself grieve - I’ve done it every day since, really - but I could never let it overshadow Robb’s day. The kids, they all understand it, know what else today means. Jon feels it the most, of course. I think he hides it well.” _

_ Unable to keep the tiny laugh from bubbling up, Ned turned to peer at her in question. “You would be surprised at how sensitive Jon is. In only the best way, of course. A big softie.” _

_ “Aye,” Ned said, sighing heavily, “I’ve a strong feeling that’s for your eyes only, Dany.” _

_ She had rolled her eyes, waving him off. “Sorry, Mr. Stark, but I’m positive he gets that from you.” _

_ He spluttered. “Me? Big softie?” He grimaced good-naturedly with a wink, making her laugh softly. His eyes sought the clock on the oven, heaving a long breath. “You best get back to bed. Robb has an entire itinerary planned for us tomorrow.” _

_ Dany gave his hand a couple of pats before scooping up her glass of water. “You too, mister,” she narrowed her eyes at him, a playfully pointed glare as she slipped off her stool. _

_ Just as she got to the base of the stairs, he called her name, spinning on her heel. “Thanks for the hangs.” _

_ Dany cringed at his vernacular, shaking her head at him as he chuckled - his dad humor was always on point, even if he did only pick up certain words and phrases from his kids if only to torture them with it. “Sure thing, big softie.” _

Dany did not know, and never asked, if Jon knew all of the nitty gritty details that she did about his mother’s death. Only that he was well and truly loved by her. Ned made a point to remind him of that constantly. That was all that mattered in the end, to understand he was the center of Lyanna Stark’s world, her heart having grown too big for her chest with how much she adored her son.

Jon’s eyes were lined with dormant tears, but he nodded, filling her with relief. “I do,” he murmured, “but I lived believing it for a long time.”

Pressing her eyes closed, she gently pressed her forehead against his, content on simply reassuring him that she would always be there for him, regret taking root in her stomach that their communication had suffered after they graduated, that she had no idea what sort of emotional turmoil he must have been facing alone.

“Dany,” he whispered, his warm knuckled smoothing over her cheek, while her hand was still attached to his. She hadn’t realized she’d begun crying, privately cursing herself and hoping, weakly, he would pass it off as steam, but the tears were fat and the source was obvious this close when she parted her lids open to find his jarringly close, burning holes into hers. “We agreed, remember? That we would work our asses off, not letting anything or anyone stop us - including you or I - until we were where we wanted to be. And then-”

A dopey, emotional grin split her face, finishing his sentence for him. “-and then we would find each other again, and see how we felt then.”

A tiny breath puffed through his nose, his eyes crinkling just so. Her heart was racing a million miles a second, goosebumps lining her skin despite her surrounding warmth. Jon’s head moved just a fraction, a decidedly intentional angle, one that would be ideal for kissing. Soft sweeps of his breath dusted across her parted lips, her eyes fluttering closed-

Until the door crashed open, startling them both apart, her heart in her throat as Robb stood there, stark naked and arms spread wide, screaming, “ _ it’s orgy time! _ ”

With urgency, Dany shielded her grieving eyes with her hands, an overwhelming clamor of Marge chortling yet trying to stop her husband from his self-proclaimed orgy offering, the rest of their feral friends finding this mortifying situation  _ far _ too amusing.

“Robb, what the fuck!” Jon shouted, and she could hear a definite trace of anger in there, but it was shortlived just as she was inching around the hot tub toward the towels, Robb gave another howl and fucking  _ canon-balled _ into the water. Dany shrieked, wanting to get away from this secretly over-the-top horny side of one of her best friends before he could even think to take advantage of her nakedness.

“Bloody fuckin’ hells,” Jon grumbled somewhere behind her - she was too afraid to even accidentally have Robb’s pale nude body further burned into her retinas, solely focused on escaping.

But, once more, luck was not on her side, for then every once sane-minded person was joining them, though thankfully they remained fully clothed. And they were far, far beyond the fun limits of drunk - they were absolutely  _ blitzed _ out of their minds, and since she and Jon had sobered considerably in their little bubble, that meant  _ they _ were left to remember all of this while the others could be blissfully ignorant.

Well, at least they had free blackmail. Dany only wished her phone was nearby so she could document it and maybe even print the photos as gifts.

For the next however long, until Dany’s eyes felt heavy as anchors and her face ached terribly from all of their laughing, she realized that she loved every single one of these crazy assholes, and that, to her pleasant confirmation, not much had changed at all.

* * *

Naturally, she and Jon had managed to free themselves from the asinine insanity of their friends. It was a game in and of itself to sneak out of the water without a single soul peeping at them, or cat-calling, especially when they left together wrapped only in towels. The clothes Jon had brought for them were tucked beneath his arm as they made the slow ascent to the bedrooms upstairs. Despite their interruption, and the obvious shift of energy between them, she was delighted that no awkwardness lay between them.

Maybe that was all in part to how affectionate they always were with one another.

Regardless, after Dany was dried, dressed, and had blow-dried her hair so she didn’t soak her pillow, exhaustion blanketed her now that she was dry and heart full. When she crossed the hall to seek out Jon, to bid him goodnight, she noticed that the light to her presumed-borrowed room was on. Quirking a brow, that was where she found Jon, his hair damp and rumpled and extra springy from the humidity of the hot tub. Dressed only in grey sweatpants, which were notched low on his len hips, his back turned to her as he began pulling back the sheets to the bed.

Leaning her hip against the doorframe, she crossed her arms, keeping her voice smooth so she wouldn’t jolt him.

The gods knew they had enough shocks for one evening.

“Stealing my room, are you?” She teased, his hand carding through the damp, loose-hanging curls around his eyes as he turned to face her.

“The other way around, little bandit,” he smirked, nudging the baggage she had dropped off in there earlier that morning, which now felt like a whole week ago.

A dusting of pink rose to her cheeks upon her realization, momentarily forgetting that of  _ course _ this was his room - he lived here, which explained the lack of luggage when she somewhat claimed it earlier. “Oh. Oops,” she smiled sleepily, pulling her hood up over her head, desperate to maintain heat in the slightly chilly room. Knowing Jon, he probably kept his vents closed, as he did in the early days. She swore northerners were half mad.

He stared at her, just for a second, then tilted his head, gesturing for her to come in. It shouldn’t have horrified her so much, seeing him begin to collect a light blanket, noticing belatedly that he must have already begun doing so before she walked in. Saw her luggage sitting there - obviously hers, given her unusual obsession with dragons, as they were imprinted on her leather luggage tags - something she never remembered to remove in her occasional travels - and thought he should give her the honors. “I’ll take one of the couches.”

Bringing her lip between her teeth, the dread filling her stomach was absolutely ridiculous. She was just as deprived for his company as she always had been. The kids at school always bullied her, poked and prodded to the point of tears, about how desperate and needy she was for attention. Not just from Jon, but from so many friendships she had made over her time at Winterfell High, whether they crumbled or thrived. They weren’t wrong; in her vast knowledge of how the human brain operated, it made total sense that she should feel that way, what with her only living parent at the time only speaking to her with spitting and hurtful words. That had hurt as much as any physical assault, sharp lashings to her mental and emotional welfare. And while Ned had given her as much of himself as was appropriate for someone who was not a biological father, that longing had always been there, to be loved, for affection from her father, but finding it elsewhere.

And when it was returned, those relationships were the most frightening and fragile, because she became so deeply attached that if and when they ultimately fractured, it hurt her  _ that _ much more.

Jon would be right there, under the same roof, obviously no motive to be elsewhere, or giving her any red flags that once the magic of this little getaway was over, they might go back to how things were. What became their new normal. The one that never felt whole without him in it.

Still, she wasn’t ready to let him out of her sight; not just yet.

“No,” she began, his hands stilling at her words and his eyes growing impossibly soft, as if maybe he had been anticipating her to say as much. Though not to hog the bed all to himself. The thought made her smile, anyway. “I can, or...we can share. If that’s not weird.”

His shoulders slumped slightly, casting her an all-to-knowing look. “How many times have we slept in the same bed  _ with _ it ever being weird?”

“Probably that time I woke up to find Arya had snuck in in the night and fell asleep between us,” she answered easily, making him huff and roll his eyes. While Arya was tough on the exterior, she’d had one particularly rough nightmare that specific night, and snuck her way into Jon’s bed.

“You know what I mean, smartarse.”

_ Now _ was not the time to make it awkward, but  _ it _ needed to be addressed. Their almost-kiss.

_ Our second almost-kiss. Seven save me. _

“Yeah, well,” she tucked her loose hair behind her ears, almost fumbling for her words, and hating the notes of bitterness that seeped in. She wasn't angry with anyone, not even with Robb for breaking their spell, but maybe a little flustered.

_ You're fucking sexually starved, Dany, just admit it. _

Her words tumbled out so hastily, he probably questioned if mayhaps she  _ was _ still drunk, despite her hitting every syllable. “Those times we didn’t almost kiss beforehand.”

Again, another pause, dragging her eyes away when all the teasing abandoned his pretty face. Feeling childishly stubborn, she refused to look at him even when he put the bed back in order, until he was in her space and nothing but a trim abdomen filled her view.

"Hey," he whispered, his northern burr forever a tonic to her soul, and her stupid eyes wettened yet again. His finger pressed under her chin, a gentle beckoning until she was once more drowning in his soulful eyes. She was embarrassed by her turn in mood; she wanted to blame the leftover liquor effects, her utter exhaustion,  _ anything _ else that would distract her from the real, raw reason this was all coming on so quickly. "How about this? No more almosts. I'm fucking sick of them. I've missed out on too much shit because of them and I'm not getting any younger."

Dany could not help the dopey smile, nor did she want to. "I believe the kids call that YOLO, Jon.”

His nose wrinkled adorably, his thumb sweeping over the apple of her cheek. Heart quickening, she had to voluntarily remind herself to breathe, lest she pass out at his feet and thus continue their unlucky streak. “What do you think, Dany?”

She blinked - was it safe to assume he was thinking along the same lines as her? Given their current position, she couldn’t think otherwise, could barely do so with him so close and imposing and comely. Almost subconsciously, she licked her lips, raising her hands to lay on his upper chest and hoping maybe he didn’t notice the tremble in them. The way that he shuddered told her it didn’t matter, his free arm looping around her sweater-clad waist. “No more almosts,” she breathed through a tiny smile, nodding conclusively.

For a second, he closed his eyes, moving the hand that was on her cheek to cradle her jaw. “Fuckin’ finally,” he whispered before dropping his head to fill the sliver of space between them, his warm, plush lips nestling against hers.

Pressing her eyes closed, a soft gasp filled her nose as she lightly gripped his lats, a prickly sensation overwhelming her entire body. He was so soft, and gentle, and so Jon that she ached for more. Slowly, he tugged her closer, then walked her backwards so that the movement closed the door behind her. It began slow and sweet, and then his tongue glanced over her lips, igniting a whimper from her, her arms looping fully around his shoulders as she welcomed the intrusion of his hot tongue.

_ Gods, we were stupid to wait _ .

He was pressed against her, her back against the door, tongues swiping and exploring almost painfully leisurely. Briefly, she thought she might have lost consciousness with his hardening cock anchored against her lower abdomen, her teeth grazing and nipping at his lip in recompense. Her muddled mind was at odds - part of her desperate to have all of him right here and now, another urging her to be patient and let this unravel deliciously slow. After all, they’d waited this long, what was another small measure of time?

Fingers idly winding into his silky hair, he was the first to break away, their lungs sucking desperately for air. Eyes drifting upward, what she found in his was mesmerizing - a heady tangle of desire, adoration…

There was a distant echo of obnoxious voices somewhere downstairs; Dany distantly thought maybe the rest of them had passed out in various locations of the house with how drunk they were, but it appeared to not be the case.

Jon huffed with a shake of his head, thumb running circles over the small of her back. “I love them, I really do, but right now…”

She couldn’t help it, smiling coyly as she hushed him with a kiss, now that she was allowed to do so. A low groan vibrated from his chest against hers, both of his hands finding her waist and pulling her completely flush against him, his erection even more persistent. She kissed him stupid, allowing her hands to roam his hard and lean body, from his broad shoulders to the mouth-watering biceps that kept drawing her attention the entire day, down the smooth planes of his chest, over his nipples, her fingers running over each swell and rippled of his abdominal muscles.

His did the same, slipping under her sweater and forcing a gasp out of her when roughened skin kissed hers, her back, her waist, up her ribs and making her stomach quiver with anticipation. They cuffed softly at her sides, lifting until they were grazing the edges of her bra. That was when Jon pulled away again, fingers tracing the skin just beneath the cups of the bra, sending a shock of arousal straight to her cunt.

If she could get this riled up with most of their clothes on, she longed to find out what sort of mess she could be dissolved into once they were removed, left bare before one another. Everything touching everywhere.

“Dany,” he panted, “I want you. More than anything, gods, I’ve wanted you for years, but…,” a drop of dread twisted her stomach, but was instantly sobered when he clarified after catching his breath, his lips kiss-bruised and wet, “not when there’s a very good chance we’ll be interrupted. And…,” he lowered his mouth to her ear, beard tickling all the way down, "I want to hear you."

_ Oh. _

She couldn't believe she whimpered out loud, but there it was, out in the open. Laying her forehead against his shoulder, her cheeks were a raging, angry hot inferno. And she was forced to squeeze her thighs together, unable to do much to disguise it as anything else when they were practically sealed together. "Gods, Jon, have you always been this horny?"

_ Better yet, have I been? _

He chuckled against her neck, making her cringe against the tickle of it, his lips brushing the spot. "Only for you."

A stupid grin widened across her face. Well, at least there probably wouldn't be much more shocking revelations now.

Tilting her chin up and leaving enough space to see him properly, she pecked his nose. “I agree with your proposition. If Robb busts in here he might take it as an invitation to have that orgy he apparently has been dreaming about.”

They both snorted together, scowling at the very idea, even if it was only Robb’s drunken proclamation that he thought it was a good idea to do such a thing with the lot of them.

Jon lowered his hands to loop his arms around her, holding her hostage as he peppered her entire face with kisses, making her breathless yet again until he landed on her lips with three tiny presses. She was beaming like a fool, but she could not find it anywhere within herself to care, tucking her face into his neck.

“I’m locking this,” he muttered into her hair, the light click of a door lock informing her that at least they wouldn’t have to worry about any (naked) intruders while they slept. With one easy motion, his arm swept behind her legs so that he was carrying her, cutting the lights as he walked them over to the bed.

When Dany pulled up the sheet to her waist - very obviously Jon’s bed now that she realized it, what with the lack of heavy blankets even despite the season - Jon huddled close, his arm curling over her and holding her to him. There was very little light available, but enough to see little star-like dots reflecting in the eyes looking back at her. Her fingers brushed aside some wayward pieces of his hair, trailing them down over his beard. “I remember when this first started coming in, right before graduation. You were so excited,” she smiled lazily.

Jon grunted. “Think I had to have been the only eighteen-year-old who couldn’t grow a full beard by then."

"Theon Greyjoy would beg to differ."

With a groan at that name, he tossed his other arm over his eyes. "I hated that asshole."

"He was quite poncy."

"Understatement of the year."

Scooting closer, Dany tucked her head under his chin, huddling up to absorb the warmth of his skin. She was bundled up in a fleece sweatshirt and pants and would probably make him sweat, but he'd just have to deal with it. The soft pads of her fingers traced little shapes over his skin, the center between his pecs, smiling at the distinct thud of his heart beneath. "How can you sleep shirtless?"

His lips pressed against her head, speaking there. "I usually sleep in a lot less than this," he husked, making her skin go all tingly again.

She would see soon enough, she supposed, and anyway, she wanted to enjoy all of him with a clear head not fogged by fatigue and post-inebriation. It would also help not having the anticipation of being interrupted when they did reach that point.

"Hm. I'm happy you're here," she murmured, her eyes closed and fighting a losing battle for consciousness. It had to be well after midnight by now, three hours past her typical bed time.

"Me too, Dany," he barely intoned above a whisper, his soft, deep breaths lulling her into a soundless and contented rest.


	2. You're like the cold December snow In the warm July sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, friends. Alright, this chapter ended up being nearly 14K, and for some reason I got super antsy and wanted it DONE and to get it out there, so I had to split it up and thus bump the chapter count up to 3 🙈  
> I hope you enjoy this one - my doubts got the best of me over halfway through it, feeling like it wasn't nearly as good as I wanted it to be, but here goes anyway. :) I'm shooting for having the final chapter up by, if not before, New Years Day, since that's sort of the 'theme' of that one. It will probably not be close to as long as this one, but I hope you'll find it a satisfactory end!
> 
> Anywho, enough of my rambling, hope you like this one!
> 
> P.S. Happy holidays, everyone!!!

  
  
  
Regardless of the fact that Dany had fallen asleep much later than her normal, her internal alarm clock still had her waking a hair before six a.m.

The difference, now, was rather than bemoaning the early hour, a smile found its way to her lips before her eyes had even opened.

A warm, solid presence was tucked into her from behind, arm draped protectively over her middle, and little warm puffs of breath over her shoulder where Jon's head lay just behind hers.

Delicately, she flipped onto her back, angling her head up to ogle at the boyish face deep in his slumber. With a gentle finger, she tucked bits of his hair away from his eyes - always so unruly despite his attempts to tame it. A feature she utterly adored about him. His lips were puckered, and it took every effort on her part to not kiss them, to wake him at this hour that was ungodly for a vacation.

The only thing that roused her, and swayed her to not spend the next hour or so gaping at Jon like a weirdo as he slept, was the delightful smell of coffee wafting up to the room. She wondered who, out of the wild banshees from the night before, had it in them to not only be conscious now, but had enough willpower to brew coffee.

With measured movements, she was able to slide out from beneath Jon’s arm already dismayed by being bereft of his nearness. Once she was certain he wouldn’t stir, she leaned down and lightly kissed his forehead before sneaking off downstairs.

Maybe it wasn’t altogether astonishing to find that it was Missandei padding around the kitchen, scouring the obscenely large pantry. The wooden stairs creaked as Dany descended them, making Missi turn and duck her head under the blockage of the bannister above to greet her with a wiggle of her fingers and a toothy smile.

“‘Morning,” Missi whispered, her eyes trailing Dany with deep suspicion.

“Morning,” Dany returned casually, seeking the source of the caffeine, “what are you doing up this early?”

“Believe it or not, Grey and I managed to cut ourselves off early. Got some water and food in us, and went to bed unnoticed,” she said, taking up a seat at the same rectangular oak dining table they’d had dinner on the evening prior.

Dany fixed up her hefty cup of coffee with cream and sugar, then claimed her spot beside Missi, knowing damn well she wasn’t going to be able to avoid the elephant in the room for much longer. Not that she didn’t want to share - but wanted to keep it hers and Jon’s, just for a little bit longer. “Don’t think I’ll be able to make eye contact with Robb today,” Dany grimaced, cradling the hot mug between her hands and letting the steam roll over her face.

Missi made a twirling motion with her finger, silently instructing Dany to turn around so she could braid her hair. It was just one of those things they did. Missi had expertise hands at somehow making her thick locks not appear like she had just rolled out of bed, or that she let a toddler attempt to have a go at it.

Her friend’s fingers against her scalp was making her gaze nowhere particular across the room. “Um, yeah, he has a  _ lot _ of explaining to do, and not just for that.”

Lifting a quizzical brow, Dany wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but morbid curiosity got the best of her. “Why? What else did he do? Other than put his dick on full display,” she shivered, wishing that what had remained of the liquor in her body would have been enough to erase that particular memory.

Missi giggled madly, weaving her fingers through sections of silver hair once it was decently smoothed out. “Well, after you and Jon disappeared,” she began with a certain lilt, her arm nudging Dany’s back, “he kept saying he lost his phone, wanted to order a pizza even though he knows we’re in the middle of the godsdamned forest - there’s a town sort of nearby, but they don’t deliver here. Anyway, he was using his cell phone to call his cell phone. Which was just a jumble of random numbers.”

Dany’s mouth formed an ‘o’ as she slapped a hand over her mouth, yelping with laughter. “Oh, my gods, he was so knackered!”

“Then,” Missi punctuated the word, hands moving down Dany’s back while she braided, their voices low, “he proposed to Marge.”

“Wait, you mean-”

“Again, yes,” Missi sighed, “although it was very sweet, I will admit, even if he won’t remember it. He said he would marry her again and again every single day for the rest of their lives.”

“Aaw,” Dany cooed,” that  _ is _ sweet.”

“Lastly…”

“Gods, there’s more?”

“Oh, yes, there’s more,” Missi tied off Dany’s braid by using thin strands of her hair, something Dany loved that she could do but could never quite figure out how to do it herself. “He may have let it slip that they’re expecting.”

Mug safely set aside, Dany whipped around, nearly taking Missi out with how furiously the braid trailed her movement, eyes saucer-wide. “ _ What _ ? But...wasn’t she drinking?”

“Sparkling wine, as it turned out, and she was able to play the part of besotted disturbingly well.”

Understanding filled Dany’s head then, reclaiming her mug for a large gulp of coffee. “That makes sense, actually. I saw her slip away a couple of times to the bathroom. I wonder if she’s sick. She got herself out of Twister pretty fast, too. How did she take it?”

“Um,” Missi’s voice raised a couple of octaves, head bobbing left to right thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t say she was exactly  _ thrilled _ , not yet, at least. She wanted to wait to hit the three-month mark, but she’s a few weeks shy of that yet. I don’t think she’ll kill Robb, honestly. He started crying.”

“How does he go from that to proposing a massive friend orgy?”

“That’s alcohol, baby,” Missi snickered while Day shook her head. “Now…”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Dany prepared for the hounding. She knew  _ that _ look.

“I know there were no bedrooms left, and you two snuck off together...”

“Nothing really happened, I swear,” Dany half-lied. It was only a kiss - it wasn’t  _ only _ a kiss, but to everyone else it would be. And maybe a boner or two, no big deal. But Missi was not having it. As someone who knew Dany better than the back of her own hand, had survived many a chat and a whine (and chats with wine) and a cry-fest from Dany about how much she missed Jon, she supposed she could give her this one. Just this little nugget. “Alright, alright...we kissed. That is  _ all _ ,” she assured against Missi’s moon-sized eyes, wherein she was silently bouncing up and down in her seat, hands flailing with excitement, but not uttering a sound should she wake the entire house and cause a ruckus.

The silly grin splitting Dany’s face open could not be stopped, more so when Missi grabbed her and hugged her so tight she expected her head to pop off. “I’m genuinely so happy for you I feel like I might need to go outside and scream. How was it?”

For a couple of seconds, Dany was unsure what she was referring to, pulling away. “Oh. It was…,” her stupid lips quivered as she fought back a smile, clamping her teeth onto it, “pretty much perfect.”

Missi pumped her arm victoriously. “I can’t believe you’re going to finally get laid by Jon Stark.”

“Oh my  _ gods _ , Missi,” Dany nearly whined, sliding her free hand over her eyes, then pointed a very direct finger at her best friend. “This stays between us for now, okay? Just until we get out of the...early stages, awkward woods. And we know what we’re actually going to be doing.”

“My lips are sealed, and I swear it by the old gods and the new,” Missi promised, air-drawing a zipper across her pretty lips. "What kind of kiss was it? Like, barely there? Maybe a little saucy? I mean, come on, your lips and his lips? Honey..."

Groaning, Dany folded her arms over the table and laid her forehead down on them. "I've learned quite quickly that  _ barely there _ is not a thing with Jon."

Unable to help herself, Missi burst into a goofy chortle, hands smacking together. Dany was slow to realize all of what her statement insinuated, but whatever, it was Missi, so it was harmless information to share.

"I have a really good feeling about this, Dany," she said soberly once the giggling dissipated.

Dany picked her head up, drawing up her knees and securing her arms around them. "I don't want to get my hopes up. Not yet."

Missi sagged entirely. "Tis the damn season to be hopeful. I'm done seeing you mope over that one," her eyes shot pointedly upward as did her finger, "especially now that the opportunity is right at your feet. You deserve to have someone to come home to."

Dany smiled, dropping her eyes to where her hands were fiddling with the hem of her sweater. It was a jarring thought, albeit one that made her stomach twist with eager anticipation. She'd known nothing else except her empty home. Missi always tried to convince her that she needed a furry companion, but even though she had the option to work remotely most of the time, she didn't feel she could offer enough time and attention to one. Part of that was her fault - she put in far more hours than was probably deemed healthy - such was the life of an entrepreneur - but now that things were much more steady…

As if his ears were burning, Dany spotted Jon as the source of the creaking stairs making his way down to them. Missi gave her a wink and drew an invisible 'x' over her lips before deciding to slip away, murmuring her morning greeting to Jon (Dany did not miss the bell-like crescendo) and effectively leaving them alone.

"'Morning, you," he smiled groggily down at her, approaching slowly like she was his prey. She bit back her grin, thanking the gods and cursing them at the same time that he had thrown on a t-shirt, but that relief was immediately canceled out by his ruffled bed head, a.k.a. sex hair.

_ Stop it, you depraved woman. _

"'Morning," she returned, eyeing him until he leaned down, without any hesitation, and pecked her on the lips. Silly man really thought that was all he was going to get, or give, her hand reaching for the collar of his shirt before tugging him down for more. He laughed against her, hand curling behind her neck, tongue tracing the seam of her lips.

Just as she was preparing to shove him down on her chair and straddle him, a loud clearing of a throat made them freeze, eyes popping open. They shared a silent ‘ _ seriously? _ ’ before Jon straightened, Dany peering around to find Robb leaning against the wall, mischievous shit-eating grin on his face.

“I see you are both enjoying your, ah... _ morning meal _ ,” he mused with a wink, his voice low and hoarse.

Jon only sent him a rude gesture before squeezing Dany’s shoulder and wandering off to the coffee pot.

Clasping her hands atop the table, she narrowed her eyes at the other man. “How are you even awake right now? Do you remember a thing about last night?”

Robb made a pained face, holding up his hand toward her. “Please, stop shouting,” he whispered harshly, making Dany frown, “not a thing. Don’t remind me, either.”

“Fat chance,” Jon called over his shoulder, “when you whipped out your dick and proposed we all have an orgy with you.”

Spluttering, Robb swatted at the air in complete denial, balking at his own volume. “That is  _ definitely _ not me.”

“There are several innocent and traumatized witnesses, myself included,” Dany added, trying to ward off the impending giggle. “I suppose it’s a relief that nobody was drunk enough to accept.”

“That we know of,” Jon added.

Robb blinked, hesitated, but then just shrugged and rubbed at his temples once he took up a chair, then dropped his forehead into his arms. “I feel bloody awful.”

“Look it, too,” Jon murmured into his cup, purposely scraping his chair against the floor to sit beside Dany.

Robb groaned, flattening his arms over his ears.

“It smells like a brewery in here,” Margaery’s voice materialized from upstairs, her long locks draping over the banister to see who all was downstairs, her nose wrinkled. Come to think of it, Robb  _ was _ still expelling the stench of alcohol, seeping through his pores, apparently. Once Marge was on their level, she ran her hand over Robb’s back, then flicked his arm. “You better sober up before we go get the Christmas tree or I get to name our firstborn without you. Now that that cat’s out of the bag.”

Robb simply grumbled something incoherent.

Dany beamed up at her, pushing to her feet and embracing her. “Congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you, darling,” she said, “only eight weeks now, soon to be nine.”

Jon pulled Marge into a one-armed hug, kissing her cheek before she padded off in search for breakfast. “Best get used to being called Uncle Jon,” she said.

“I already love it,” he grinned, finishing off his coffee in record speed.

About an hour passed before the rest of the crew was awake and properly dressed, deciding that Gendry’s pick-up would suffice as the tree hauler while the rest of them followed. Arya joined her boyfriend, while Jon’s Jeep fit Dany, Robb, and Marge. Missi and Grey took up the rear.

Dany white-knuckled her seat for much of the ride, given it was down hill and through what she felt to be precariously bumpy ground. Most of the route wasn’t even a paved one, threatening to give them all horrific migraines if the way her brain was being jostled around was any indication. Naturally, Jon looked totally unbothered, with one hand on the wheel and overall relaxed demeanor.

The tree farm, at long last and while on lumpy land, was flat. They agreed to split up in pairs and mark whatever trees they thought would best fit the cabin. Little flurries swept about them, dancing across their clothes and tickling Dany’s skin. She followed Jon’s lead, minding her footing and the barbed bushes and snagging thorns. Seeing as this was very much Jon’s territory - the entire north practically ran through his veins - she had a better idea, biting her lip before giving herself a running start and hauling herself up onto Jon’s back. He grunted at the sudden impact, but was quick to find the backs of her knees to hold her steady. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, dropping a kiss onto his chilly cheek.

“What’s your favorite tree species?” He asked her, hiking her up another inch for a better grip.

“Probably Christmas.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head whilst digging his thumb into her tendon, making her yelp. “What does your tree normally look like when you get one?”

“I have a fake,” she said shamefully, his walk coming to a near halt, then deciding to cut between a row of trees at least twice their height.

“What?” He turned his head around to seek her out. “Why?”

She shrugged, watching the baby flakes stick and contrast prettily in his beautiful curls. “I don’t know. I think I got used to it not being celebrated in Essos and not having one at all, then when I moved back here it just didn’t feel the same.”

Jon hummed, then continued down the narrow path between trees. "Alright, it's decided then. You get dibs."

"No, that's not fair," she protested.

Jon slowly let his hands loosen their hold until she landed safely on her feet. He nodded to the selection surrounding them. "Go on," he urged with an encouraging smile.

With a dopey grin, she went down the aisles, Jon hot on her heels even as she rounded some of the options to check their fullness. It was surprisingly easy - she found one that was the perfect height for the high ceilings at the cabin, hardly a bald spot to be found, and the ideal fullness. "I like this one," she brushed her gloved fingers over one of branches, the needles sturdy and thick for ornaments.

"Yeah?" Jon asked, suddenly bumping against her shoulder.

She turned to face him, heart thudding against his sweet but predatory gaze. "Mhm."

He slid his hands beneath her coat, settling over her hips, the tree bristling against the material of her coat. His lips tugged up at the corners, and she became hyper aware of the fact that they were far and secluded from the rest of the tree farm population. Locking her hands behind his neck, she rose onto her tiptoes to kiss him tenderly, molding against him and stealing his warmth for her own.

His fingers dipped beneath her sweater to graze over the soft skin of her waist, eliciting a small gasp from her when a cold draft wafted against it. He pressed forward, mouth slanting over hers so perfectly as she opened herself to his exploration, and knowing with a growing impatience that they would have to cut this off soon.

"Was this your plan all along?" She murmured against him, hugging him tight against her.

"Not exactly, but the opportunity presented itself," he husked, pulling her sweater back over the exposure of her skin in feeling her shiver.

She kissed him again, two times, three, and she would have been embarrassed by how addicted she was if she didn't already know he was just as affected. "Think we let enough time pass for them to believe we were tree hunting this whole time?"

He smiled warmly, his eyes struggling to land on one part of her face. "Aye. I think so."

As it happened, Marge had found a tiny baby fir that she couldn't part with. Robb told them she had cried over it, her emotions running high with their own incoming little one, so Robb bought it for her - partly in reconciliation of him spilling the beans and to make up for his insane behavior the night prior.

It took a decent effort to haul the twelve footer to the truck,  _ out _ of the truck, and into the cabin. Dany feared it wouldn’t fit at all through the door had it not been bound by thick rope. Robb grabbed and filled the tree stand while he and the men worked to get the tree drilled straight, the ladies helping direct them on whether or not it was leaning, and naturally, Arya kept fucking with them just because she could.

It was put up in the corner near the cathedral wood ceiling, where the asymmetrical picture windows looked out toward the forest, and the sight and smell of the pine made Dany’s heart warm considerably. They spent much of the afternoon mingling, some of them still requiring time to recover from alcoholic festivities last night (which mainly consisted of Robb sharing equal space with one of the couches and the bathroom, and Gendry and Arya grumbling about the volume or the brightness of day spilling through the windows). Jon fetched a stool so that they could reach the top half of the tree, the two of them exchanging secretive little touches when nobody else was watching.

It wasn’t a shameful secret, by any means, but it was a little exciting to know something they all didn’t, if not for a short time.

At some point, Jon had leaned close to her ear and asked her to put her coat and boots on, and that he wanted to show her something. All to eagerly, she took up his offered hand once they stepped outside, the weather becoming more and more blustery by the day, it seemed. They wound around the back of the cabin, through a narrow dirt path that appeared to be intentionally carved for whatever purpose Jon needed it for. They turned a corner and there, in its own little tidy space, were two rectangular granite stones embedded neatly in the ground - one etched black with the name  _ Eddard Stark, beloved father, brother, husband, king of dad jokes _ (Dany giggled profusely at this, and Jon suggested that it was upon Ned’s insistence well before his actual death, that they would make his headstone a little more personable than the usual ‘grim shit’). The other, a cyan hue, inscribed:  _ Lyanna Stark, darling sister, devoted mother. She never wanted to leave. _

“Oh,” Dany breathed, not realizing tears had sprung in her eyes until they were trailing warmly down her cheeks. “It’s beautiful. Did you do this?”

“Robb and Arya helped with dad’s,” Jon said, his voice low and a little solemn. “I wanted mum’s ashes wherever I knew I would be permanently. We figured since everyone else is here relatively regularly, it wouldn’t hurt to have him with her.”

Stepping closer to his side, Dany wound her arm around him, his mirroring. There were fresh blue winter roses cradling Lyanna’s, a Christmas wreath laying just under each stone. “He loved you, you know,” Jon muttered, a smile pulling at his mouth when she peered up at him.

She gave a small nod. “I honestly don’t know what I would have done without him. Without all of you.”

Aerys had died in her third year of high school. At the time, she was so used to his emotional abandonment that all she could do was be numb to it. There was really never any mourning - not for the person, but for the fact that she hadn’t known a real parents’ devotion and love until the Starks entered her life. There was no service, no memoriam. Her father’s body had given out on him overnight, after one particularly larger than even his usual alcohol binge fest, and she had been the one to find him. As soon as Ned heard the news, he took her under his - their - wing, as an official guardian since Dany had no other kin to claim her. It was only for a couple of years, until she turned eighteen, but still, he had filled those two years with more love and care than she had gotten in all of her sixteen.

All of that had driven her to spend her nights in Jon’s bed, or having him in hers, platonically. Coincidentally, she had been swarmed with an overwhelming sense of loneliness and melancholy, and it made the nights unbearable when her mind would roam. He would hold her, rock her, stroke her hair, even when she had nothing left to say, and her tears dampened the neck of his shirt. It was alright with the parents so long as they left a door partially open - not that they had gotten up to anything naughty to any degree.

However, that was also the year she realized she loved Jon Stark. There was no other like him; not in this lifetime, anyway.

Presently, Dany hooked her other arm around his middle, the realization of all the things they’d suffered so young striking her, hard. She pressed her ear against his heart while he held her, reminiscent of those shared nights together. “What are you doing for New Years’?” He whispered.

“Just a hot date with my bed at midnight.”

Jon chuckled, the sound making her grin lazily. “Wanna make it a hot date with me at midnight?”

Lifting her head to see him, he was giving her those godsdamned beautiful, soulful eyes, as if she would  _ ever _ say no to them, or him. Her smile only stretched wider, nodding resolutely. “I wouldn’t want it any other way. But, was that a conscious effort to redact the word ‘bed’?”

He tipped his head from one side to another, making a show of  _ really _ thinking about it. “It’s optional. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves.”

_ Oh. He really  _ was _ really thinking about it. _

Flushing like a virtuous maid, Dany hid her face by pressing her forehead against his chest, his low rumble of a laugh and the clear insinuation he presented.

  
  
  


Christmas was in two days. Which meant, the house would be emptied that evening, most of them having to travel somewhat of a distance to spend the following day with more family. And while she absolutely adored and loved her friends, she was looking forward to finally having Jon all to herself.

* * *

**_6 years ago - New Year's Eve_ ** _  
_ _  
_ The night was electric. Dany could feel it down to her marrow, the bass of the speakers feeding into the euphoric atmosphere.

They did it. They graduated high school. Conquered the woes of adolescence, mortifying breakouts, failed relationships, questionable teachers, endless upon endless essays and exams and a lifetime of cramming.

And, to top it off, Dany landed the prestigious internship she had dedicated an entire year preparing for.

She was fucking elated, uncaring how silly she looked with the sequins party hat on her head, or that she was dancing to her favorite boy bands. A sheen of sweat covered her skin, finally deciding to break for a drink before she overheated.

As became the norm, the Stark house served as the epicenter of gatherings. Cat had leant them the house under the conditions that it returned to the same state she left it in. It felt strange to not have Ned there, flitting about and cracking the worst corny jokes he could conjure, but Dany knew he would be proud of all of them.

It was the first party where Dany imbibed in alcohol, usually declining it in the past when offered with the irrational fear she'd suddenly fall the way her father did. And while she enjoyed the feeling of the light buzz she had going, she didn't intend to forget today, so she would take it easy on hitting the drinks.

After she found herself some water, she snaked her way through the living room to the back patio for the cool air. Her lungs welcomed the crisp air greedily, a much needed break from the body heat consuming the spacious living room where they had gathered. She propped her forearms over the wooden deck railing, her eyes pinned to the full moon rising over the ironwood trees. Her bare arms and legs cooled quickly in the winter night, idly thinking she should have brought a coat out so she could absorb more of this place she called home. 

The door creaked open and closed behind her, footsteps slow but indicative of Jon's. He joined her at her side, draping a knit throw blanket over her shoulders before leaning his back against the rail.

"Thank you," she smiled, straightening so she could see him properly. His button down sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, comely face contemplative. Jon's natural demeanor was broody, but she knew him inside out, knew exactly the woes he was feeling. She felt it, too.

"Everything's about to change," he noted, voice roughened.

She nodded, an abrupt dreariness washing over her. There was so much to look forward to - her independence, adulthood, returning to her home country for a dream internship...and then there was her departure from Jon. Out of anything, that was the most difficult thing to forfeit. "I know."

After a beat, he turned to face her, his eyes kind even in the deep shadows overwhelming his features. His smooth baby face had changed so much over the last couple years, his jaw and cheeks peppered by a new incoming beard, where his cheeks were fuller now chiseling away to reveal a distinct structure. He had grown his hair out and given her a run for her money for most beautiful locks.

Almost hesitantly, his hands cuffed around her upper arms, sliding them up and down to warm her before she ultimately pressed herself against him. He sighed contentedly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "I'm so proud of you, Dany. Did you know that?"

Her grin warbled, biting her cheek to avoid a sob. First, she only nodded, afraid her voice would give out entirely, until she was mostly confident it wouldn't. "And I, you. Law school is no easy feat, you know."

Castle Black University had an acceptance rate of 10.5%, and Jon had secured his position only two weeks ago. He was smart as all hells and she never doubted him even for a minute, not when he was at his lowest after Ned died, not even when he fell asleep deep in his books well post his bed time.

He pulled away, just enough to see her, stealing her breath with one simple look. Their foreheads bumped together, her heart leaping to her throat. "I'll miss you," she whispered softly, trying her damndest to not look at his lips.

"I'll miss the shit out of you, Dany."

She felt it, the subtle tilt of his chin turning toward her. Their mouths puffed warm air over the other in shallow pants. She squeezed her eyes shut, stubborn tears falling against her will. His hands pulled her body fully against his. "I want to kiss you, Jon. More than anything," she freely admitted, easier than anticipated because she spent months agonizing over the fact that she couldn't. They couldn't. "But I know that if I do, I won't get on that plane tomorrow."

And because he was Jon, there was no temper tantrum, no talking her down for being selfish or self-important. Just understanding as his lips moved to brush over her cheek instead, the sweet gesture like an icy knife to her heart. He buried his face in her neck, winding her arms around his shoulders to cling to him. "You’re going to do so much good, help so many people,” she muttered, letting him lightly sway them.

“You more than me,” he said, breath hot on her skin, “might have to take on some sketchy cases before I get to the better stuff.”

She let his sweater swallow up her tears, sucking in a deep breath before slowly exhaling. “Let’s make each other a promise.”

“Anything.”

Sniffing, her nose beginning to run, she blinked a few times thoughtfully. “We do our thing...get to a good place, and when we’re ready, we’ll find each other again.”

These were dreams they had both had before they’d met, or soon thereafter, ones that simply would not thrive to the fullest potential because they were under the mutual understanding that they would never get enough of each other. And while that was just as appetizing, a desperate want, neither of them would have the opportunity to fulfil said aspirations with distraction. Him and her - they would always be around. That much was guaranteed.

Jon pulled his head back, the waft of air against the skin he had warmed making her skin break out in goosebumps. A tiny smile lifted at the corner of his plush lips with a consenting nod. “I promise.”

“Me, too,” she grinned with relief, jumping when someone threw the door open, Missi’s head popping through to urge them inside before they missed the countdown to midnight. Once she disappeared again, Dany gingerly blotted under her eyes with her fingers, drifting her eyes back up to Jon’s. She wouldn’t be surprised if she looked more the part of a raccoon with how much crying she’d managed in such a short time. “How do I look?”

“Like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he declared after a hard swallow, her chest tightening almost painfully as her heart clenched. She took up his hand and fit their fingers together.

With a squeeze of her palm against his, she offered him a small smile, knowing they were mere hours away now from her making the six hour journey across the Narrow Sea. “I’ve got nothing on you, Jon Stark,” she sighed, while he pulled a face. She simply rolled her eyes - he was oblivious, but there was a reason the girls threw themselves all over him, but to no avail. With a nod of her head toward the door, she tugged him with her. “Come on. We have a resolution to make.”

* * *

The guys had gone into town for some impromptu gift run, since apparently Gendry had missed the memo about their gift exchange. Robb only went begrudgingly when Marge forced him out, putting on her best sweet tone to bring her the specific brand of Winter Town chocolate ice cream she was very desperately craving. Since Marge had moved to Winterfell from Highgarden, she couldn’t get enough of the northern delicacies.

That would give the ladies time to bake and decorate through all of the cookies Arya had stocked them with when she got to the cabin. Dany wrapped an apron around her while Missi brought out the cold ingredients and Arya dropped a couple of cloth bags onto the kitchen island full of the dry goods and required tools.

The abrupt sound of Christmas music filled the cabin, and Dany realized that a speaker system was hidden away somewhere above the kitchen cabinets, Arya scrolling through her phone to set the appropriate mood.

“ _ Soooo _ ,” Marge drawled huskily, sauntering over to where Dany was measuring and distributing ingredients into a few bowls, trying to  _ not _ become distracted by the little glint in those bright blue eyes. “What are you getting Jon for Christmas?”

Dany froze, cursing when she accidentally sludged egg over herself. “Shit. Um…,” her cheeks flamed, ablaze, because while she didn’t expect Jon to be here and thus didn’t get a gift for him, she now had  _ other _ ideas in mind that didn’t require actually going into town. 

Marge barked a completely evil chortle, forcing Dany to bite onto her lower lip in deep concentration - it was  _ definitely _ written all over her godsdamned face, wasn’t it? Gods, she was never one to be so easily flustered, but apparently anything revolving around her and Jon dissolved her into a blushing maid.

“This conversation needs to end here, because I have gotten more than my fill of my brothers’ sexual habits in the past eighteen hours,” Arya groaned, her hands flying up as if that would ward off any perverse accusations.

“Well, I’m only saying, I have an array of handcuffs in my suitcase if you need ‘em,” Marge winked, rounding the counter to begin mixing the dough as if she’d just told Dany the weather. Arya muttered a string of curses her way, shielding her ears.

Dany was less horrified about that idea than she was about how much she got enjoyment out of the visuals filling her head, blinking furiously to shove them away, clearing her throat. “I’m sure I can run into town to find something.”

“I can help you with that,” Arya chimed, making Dany’s head pop up from where she was setting out the parchment paper.

“You can?”

“We’ll have to go today, though; they won’t be open tomorrow.”

Eyes narrowing, Dany cocked her hip against the counter. “That’s ominous. What is it?”

“You’ll see,” Arya smirked, winking.

Very ominous, indeed.

* * *

Two hours passed in a flurry, happily getting lost in conversation old and new, several batches of variously-shaped-and-flavored cookies cooling on racks along the granite counters. Jon’s cabin boasted quite a spacious oven, cutting their time in half if they were to attempt this on any standard appliance. Between wait times, Dany had begun crafting a gingerbread house, after proposing that she was going to have a go at recreating the Stark house in Winterfell by memory. For shits and giggles and to feed her festering nostalgia trip.

By the time she was finishing up the final touches on the eighth and final gingerbread - one little gingerbread man for each of them - the front door opened, announcing the return of the men. Missi took to cleaning out the bowls, while Marge and Arya dumped the cooled cookies into others.

“Holy shit,” Dany heard Jon mutter over her shoulder, his cool presence from being outside making her skin prickle, lips tugging slightly with immense determination to pipe the last of Marge’s gingerbread. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jon try to pluck a gummy candy from the ‘yard’, and she freed one hand to lightly smack it away, but he popped it in his mouth before she could successfully bat him away. He chuckled, making her straighten and turn, finding him completely in her space, a cocksure grin plastered to his face. In recompense, biting back one of her own, she squeezed a heaping dollop of red icing onto her index finger, slyly lifting it to blot onto Jon’s nose, shoulders shaking by her own amusement.

Jon’s face contorted in a scrunch, seemingly expecting her to make more of a mess of it, peeking one eye open when she snorted as it began to slide down his mustache, over his top lip. Pleased with herself, she gave him a wink before turning back around to replace the candy he had stolen, until his hand gripped her hip and spun her back around, squealing as he held her hostage and nuzzled his nose all over her face, her eyes squeezed tightly, fighting to turn her face away from him and push him off. His hands caught hers before she could even think about it, bursting into a heap of giggles in defeat as he smeared red all over her cheeks, her nose, finding some of the sweet on her lips and taking it for his own with his mouth.

For one fleeting moment, she stood there stunned, gasping through her nose, while their audience at her back erupted into cat calls and whistles and  _ whoops _ . There were no more fucks to give - obviously, everyone was aware of the developments, whether by their own accord or through the grapevine, so she gave back as good as she got, her hands floating between them so as to not stain their clothes.

The moment he pulled away, she was grinning madly, brows raising at the mess she made of him.

“Just so you know, the shower fits two comfortably,” Marge said airily.

Dany barely heard her, jumping when Jon snaked his hand to her back and lower, in the discreet shield of the island, giving her ass a squeeze. He winked, mimicking her from moments ago, leaving her gaping after him as he walked over to the sink to wash his face off. Smitten, she risked a look around the room, so wrapped up in her Jon bubble that she hadn’t realized  _ everyone _ had stuck around to watch the scene unravel. And  _ every _ single face was silently screaming  _ I told you so _ .

Rolling her eyes without an ounce of venom, Dany removed her soiled apron and took up Arya’s offer to go to this mysterious place she had mentioned, once her face was icing-free. 

When they finally pulled into town, twenty minutes later, Dany expected Arya to drive them onto the main drag toward the shops. Instead, she took them on the outer brink of the hustle and bustle of the late Christmas shoppers, pulling up to a brick, one-story building with bold steel letters that read  _ Winterfell Humane Society. _

Arching a brow, Dany turned to Arya as she was unbuckling her seatbelt. “Just wait; you’ll understand,” Arya assured.

Without a word, Dany followed her inside. They were immediately greeted by the echos of various barks in the hall and rooms behind the sectioned-off reception area. Arya told the woman at the desk her name, and after a few seconds they were being brought back to the kennels.

Dany was so overwhelmed by all of the hopeful, eager eyes of dogs, that she felt her eyes begin to burn, all of them pleading to pick them and give them a home. She almost begged Arya to go back to the cabin because she was afraid she might offer to adopt the whole damn place herself…

Until they stopped at one particular section, and Dany threw her hand over her mouth. Arya was beaming while Dany crouched down to hold her free hand against the bars of the swing door. A single fluffy white puppy, with ears struggling to stay straight atop its head in the most endearing way, grappled to be at the front to soak up the attention. She could smell the puppy breath from where she knelt, tiny little nails, teeth, and tongue fighting over Dany’s fingers.

“Now for the explanation,” Arya began, “over the last few weeks I’ve caught Jon on the Humane Society’s adoption page, looking at this ones with heart eyes. Basically like how he looks at you. Barf.”

Dany couldn’t even be bothered by the jest in the slightest. She was too busy being in love.

“Anyway, he always closed out of the tab when he noticed me in the room. But it was only this one in particular.”

The woman whose name tag read  _ Gilly _ cleared her throat. “He was brought to us after he and his litter mates were abandoned in the woods. The others were adopted straight away, but this one...he was the runt of the litter and the only one whose sight never came in. He's blind. His eye coloring will likely fade over time."

Dany’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach - she hadn’t even noticed the red right away, but looking at him now, they were vivid, especially against his white fur. “He’s beautiful,” Dany murmured, giggling softly when she found a particularly sensitive spot at his neck, his back leg going a mile a minute to scratch at it. “Is Jon allergic to dogs now or...?”

Arya sighed. “The only thing he’s allergic to is common sense. He obviously wants to adopt him, I just don't know what's stopping him."

Softly, Dany blew a wayward hair out of her face.

_ I do. _

* * *

**_Seven years ago_ **

  
  


Community Service month was upon the third years. Jon didn't want to be stuck with Theon Greyjoy visiting the nursing homes, and since Dany was all too familiar with the antics of the imbecile, she vowed to partner up with Jon to hopefully be his alibi and not deal with Greyjoy as much. In return, Jon agreed to compromise by splitting his time to go with Dany to the dog shelter to volunteer. That was hardly a tooth-pulling endeavor - she was going too easy on him. Almost anything was infinitely more enjoyable than being trapped in any capacity with Theon.

Although, to be fair, Dany mostly wanted Jon to tag along to keep her in check and not make any spontaneous decision to bring home any pets. Aerys would go into cardiac arrest if another breathing, living thing crossed his drunken haven.

It was almost over before it began. Right after the Volunteer Officer, an odd woman named Melisandre, briefed them on responsibilities and proper handling and care of the animals, signing waivers, they were introduced to each dog in the facility. Since Jon was allergic to cats, they would have to put that one off.

" _ Jon _ ," Dany whispered in a high pitch, hands clasped tightly over her mouth at all of the barks and yips of the dog room, unable to let her eyes land on any one pair of begging faces seeking them out.

“Focus, Dany,” Jon reminded her playfully, following Mel as she showed them the storage room full of leashes, harnesses, extra collars, food and various other supplies should they need it for clean-up and minor emergencies.

Dany could hardly contain herself when Mel then handed Dany the keys to the cages, reminding her that the kennels tagged with green tape meant those dogs got along well with the others, and red meant they were to be released on an individual basis. Dany was practically bouncing on her heels when the woman left them to do their thing.

They took care of the lesser sociable ones first, to help calm their nerves once they would see herself and Jon mingling with the others. They walked them around the premises, threw balls for them in the fenced off partition until they collapsed happily at their feet.

Dany could  _ feel _ the stress of the semester rolling off of her in waves, and when they returned inside for the next group, she gasped when the next cage door they opened had a fellow with a gimpy gait instantly crawling into Dany’s lap where she was squatting.

“Oh, my  _ gods _ ,” she cooed, peering up at Jon as she sat down on her bum so the dog - a mutt, by her reckoning - could fit herself in Dany’s lap. “She’s missing a leg,” she nearly whined, just as Jon took up a spot next to her to run his hand over between the short coarse fur between the ears. If she were to guess, she thought it resembled something between a Labrador and maybe some type of hound dog, judging by its lop ears.

Dany craned her neck to see the laminated label beside the crate door: _My name is_ **Fawn** _and I have been here_ **113** _days_.

Heart swelling, Dany gently scratched along Fawn’s back, her teeth clamping onto her bottom lip. “I want her,” she said softly, the little tail thumping against the ceramic floor.

Fawn lifted her head and coated Jon’s face with her tongue, sending him back on his arse with a grunt. “I knew this would be a bad idea,” he said lightheartedly, arching a brow knowingly at Dany as she snuggled the dog closer.

“But look, she picked us,” Dany half pleaded, even though she knew it was a lost hope, and not what they even came here for.

Jon blew out a breath, returning his little caresses on Fawn’s head. The other dogs they had yet to pay attention to were yelping and whining for their turn. “You know I have a soft spot for cripples, bastards and broken things,” Jon said, gently, “but Cat would have a stroke. She hates dogs.”

Even if Dany knew that already, that Cat could never handle the inevitable mud and dog hair and overall maintenance of a pet, she still felt her heart crack a little bit. Plus, the Starks were beyond gracious enough to provide her a roof over her head. It wouldn’t do well to impose.

Fawn turned her amber eyes up to Dany, as if reading her mind, nosing at her cheek and assaulting her ear with her warm tongue, forcing a squeal out of her. Stupidly, her eyes watered. “Okay, okay,” she grunted as she slowly got to her feet, careful not to jostle the pup too much, fixing her shirt as a means to avoid Jon’s gaze so he couldn’t see the wetness gathering there. She didn’t know what got into her. “Let’s get to work before I start dognapping.”

“Hey,” Jon caught her wrist, ducking his head until she looked at him finally. She tried to will away the dumb tears, but to no avail. His thumb caught them first, brow lifting. “What are these for?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m being a big baby.”

He pulled a face, which ultimately made her lips tug upward. “You’re starting to sound like me. How about this...as soon as we graduate, we get amazing jobs and move out, and the first thing we get before any furniture is a dog.”

Dany blinked, her grin turning mischievous as his face flushed, his one hand still clasped around her while the other went to the back of his head to scratch nervously. He seemed to catch onto what he was silently proposing, and she  _ definitely _ was not going to let him live it down. Not anytime soon, anyway. “Jon Stark,  _ what _ are you trying to suggest?”

He released her wrist and scrubbed his hands up and down his face, trying to ward off a smile of his own, suddenly extremely interested in being the one to uncage a couple more dogs. “Nothin’, I…,” he cleared his throat, slipping on harnesses and clipping leashes. “Ready?”

Dany rolled her eyes at his evasive ones, tugging the collar of his shirt to face her. Maybe she would have a little mercy - he looked totally mortified. But to remind him she wouldn’t be forgetting this, she pinched his cheek much like a grandmother would. “You have to swear on it,” she said, closing her other fingers save for her pinky, offering it to him. Relief practically fell off his shoulders like a physical thing, his finger linking with hers.

“I swear it.”

She dared to step closer, their hands trapped between the both of them, eyes narrowing. “Deal.”

* * *

“Hello? Dany? Still here?”

Tearing her eyes up where Arya was waving a hand in front of her face, apparently her eyes having glazed over in her thoughts, she nodded, cheeks growing hot with the look Mel was giving her. “Sorry. Anyway...yes. He’s definitely coming home with us,” she smiled down at the wriggling fluff, who was giving her a serious inspection.

“Wonderful,” Mel chirped, “per protocol, I’ll need to ask you some questions and such. First, how many people live in the home?”

“It’ll just be…,” Dany paused, suddenly unsure, because that would mean knowing her own future, “just myself and one other.”

Arya gave her a particular look that she knew she’d get hounded about later.

“Okay,” Mel said, “before this little one leaves, and assuming background check and everything goes without a hitch, we require that all members of the house come to meet the animals here. I don’t foresee any issues, but it’s always best to be sure everyone is comfortable with one another.”

Dany nodded, feeling a little dumb for having assumed she’d be taking the little bundle home the same day. Of course there were certain measures to be taken. “Of course. Um...maybe the day after Christmas? I assume the shelter will be closed tomorrow.”

Mel smiled politely. “We are, but we reopen the twenty-sixth at eight a.m.”

It was mildly disappointing that she wouldn’t be able to give him to Jon on actual Christmas day, but that was quickly brushed away when she put some thought into it: a houseful of strangers, who didn’t really have much control over their volume, was bound to be too overwhelming for the pup. She didn’t want to make him a nervous wreck his first day home, plus it would just be herself and Jon by tomorrow evening.

That idea spurred on another, entirely different feeling, one that was blooming low in her stomach, and she pinched her skin to shove that one far, far away.

Additionally, that would give them time to clean up the place, clear potential obstacles and safety hazards, all masked as general after-party tidying. Jon wouldn’t catch on to a thing.

After Dany bid the little guy a temporary farewell, they followed Mel back to the front to undergo a thorough background check and more paperwork. Mel printed a packet and went over the care for blind pets. Dany expected it to be a little more maintenance than the standard dog, especially since that summer she and Jon had volunteered at the shelter, she developed a hyper-fixation on perfecting her knowledge on handicapped pets. Little did she know, at the time, that life would take them in totally opposite directions than anticipated, but here they were now.

“Like you would a toddler, you’ll want to put protective covers on any sharp corners he might run into. He’s likely to be anxious for a little while, as he adapts to his new environment, so he’ll be bumbling with more energy,” Mel stated. “Try to keep furniture and things consistent for him; make it predictable so he knows how to navigate. He does have minimal vision, but he is practically totally blind, and it will worsen over the next few weeks. He’ll be five months old on January seventh.”

More tips and tricks were shared, from how to wake him up without startling him, to bringing him out in public, all revolved around his comfort. A giddy feeling spread through her limbs, almost bouncing on her feet all the way back out to the car after she promised she would drag Jon there in a couple of days. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, despite his grievance for early wake-up calls.

“So, you and Jon in the house permanently, huh? That’s a new development,” Arya needled on the drive home.

Rolling her eyes, Dany flicked her friend’s arm. “I couldn’t think of a quick enough answer. It was the first one to come to mind.”

“You could’ve just said it would just be Jon,” Arya continued, that little evil glint in her eye.

Dany deflected, even if her skin was warming yet again. “Well, now that we know we’re not too far from one another, I’m sure I’ll be making somewhat frequent visits here.”

“I’m sure you will,” Arya added, eyebrows dancing.

“So, you and Gendry, huh?” Dany retorted, and now it was Arya’s turn to shrink.

“He’s a bull-headed wanker,” Arya said lovingly, despite her pitiful attempt at disguising her soft face for lethal words.

“You used to stalk him outside in the summer. Pretending to bring us all water and snacks.”

“Ugh, shut it!” Arya groaned, hands gripping the steering wheel so tight her skin turned ghostly white. “I didn’t  _ stalk _ as much as I  _ appreciated _ .”

Dany snorted. “You went through an entire twenty-four pack of water in one day so you could  _ really _ appreciate.”

“Fuck you,” Arya chortled, and Dany knew if she wasn’t handling a vehicle she would have been slugged by now.

The rest of the short car ride was filled with their little banter, ribbing one another until they were forced to stop unless they’d rather Arya lose control of the car and drive them down the mountainside. Being stuck in the hospital for the holidays was  _ not _ on the curriculum.

* * *

By evening, Dany was nearly bursting at the seams for a couple of reasons. It was impossible to even look Jon in the eyes without wanting to blurt out her gift-in-waiting for him.

Gift number one, anyway.

The other reason was because the increasing sexual tension between them was so thick she didn't think even a chainsaw would work to sever it. Throughout the day, they continued to steal moments away from prying eyes, whether it be something in passing like an ass grab, or Jon flat out dragging her into the hallway storage closet to clean her palate, leaving her wanting and frustrated and a mess to look at afterwards.

It took every last dwindling scrap of her will to not jump him when bedtime rolled around.

So, to preserve what remained of her control, she thought she might bid Jon a goodnight before taking up a spot on one of the cushy couches downstairs.

Fat chance  _ that _ was. One tiny peck goodnight turned into her making four attempts to leave his room, the final being him snatching her arm just when she finally crossed the threshold, pulling her back to him and almost slamming the door closed in his haste.

Jon Stark was a fucking drug and they'd barely done a thing yet. She had to yank herself off his lap in the bed, his straining cock through his thin grey sweats and her leggings proving a deadly combo where discipline was concerned. A few rocks of her hips over his had them both acting like animals, if their muffled feral sounds were any indication. By some luck, with a pitiful whine, she removed herself from her straddle and instead tucked herself in front of him, his body firm and strong at her back.

But his greedy cock against the cleft of her ass did neither of them any favors, nor did his chuckle against her neck, so she rolled him to his other side and she spooned him instead.

It was going to be a miserable twenty-four hours.

* * *

She was distantly aware of some movement behind her, sturdy and warm, followed by a coarse tickle at her jaw. Inhaling a breath, her senses awakened with a smile to a familiar voice. “Happy Christmas, Dany.”

“Mm. Happy Christmas,” she said groggily, rolling over to nuzzle into his chest and stretch her legs. Jon peppered soft kisses all over her face, lips trailing inbetween.

"Look outside," he murmured against her neck. In her awakening haze she hadn't really acknowledged that the reason the room was so bright behind her eyelids was because the curtains had been thrown open. Slowly she sat up, turning her head and gasping. She nearly stumbled over her own feet trying to get closer to the window.

Thick, fat flakes were blanketing the earth, barely a spot of green to be found among the evergreens anymore. She could hardly see beyond a few feet past the window, everything beyond a vague silhouette. "Oh my  _ gods _ ," she breathed. She hadn't had a white Christmas - nor any legitimate Christmas - since she had left for Essos all those years ago.

"The lake will be frozen. Which only means pristine sledding opportunities," Jon offered, sidling up beside her.

Dany gasped, a bit on the dramatic side for show, turning to face him. "Let's oil the bottom of the sleds," she lifted her brows up and down.

Looping his arms around her waist, he gaped at her, contemplating. And gods, she hoped she would never,  _ ever _ get used to how her body reacted to him. More especially in relation to the systems of respiratory and circulatory. "I love the way you think. Rock, paper, scissors on who has to lug the other back to shore."

Smirking, Dany withdrew her hand and on the count of three, beat Jon with paper over rock. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, planting a firm kiss to her cheek.

"PRESENTS!"

“Fuck!” Jon yelped as his brother body slammed his bedroom door open, and Dany’s own stomach leapt to her throat.

“Why is he the way that he is?” Dany asked, her hand pressed over her heart.

“Fuck if I know,” Jon said, huffing out a breath, then crooked a smile at her and tilted his head toward the door to head downstairs.

* * *

Gifts were a good time, if not only just distracting enough from Dany’s winding nerves. If Jon hadn’t been shooting her wolfish looks across the room for the entire length of the exchange, she might have been able to enjoy watching everyone else opening their presents.

Not even two cups of coffee and one mug of hot cocoa could warm her, gooseflesh erupting like he was some strange magnetic force pulling on her skin from several feet away.

Then came the inevitable sledding, which  _ was _ a proper distraction, and hysterical by all means. Marge was far too nervous that the ice would crack beneath them, making Robb go solo on his toboggan until he, Jon and Arya were able to reassure her that the lake was inches thick in ice by now. The snow was still freely falling with no end in sight, the sky a vast and endless globe of grey.

There was a large swatch of open hill that was clear of trees or other obstructions, giving them an unobtrusive path straight over the lake. Since everyone was onboard with the oil idea, they’d done everything from solo glides, skidding far across the ice, to racing in teams (Arya and Grey proved to be the lightest, and thus the fastest pairing), to the guys deciding it wise to see how reckless they could get. Gendry thought it wise to see who could jump and clear incoming sledders the best, which resulted in many nasty-looking twirls through the air and unnatural bends of body parts when they were clipped in the air. But somehow, there were no serious injuries, save for Grey twisting his ankle. Nothing a bit of icing it wouldn’t cure.

Two hours and lots of snotty noses later, they returned to the cabin, warmed themselves up with heaps of hot cocoa and dry clothes. At some point in Dany’s brief absence to shower, someone had readjusted the gingerbread cookies to make hers and Jon’s situated in a lewd position. She couldn’t help but snicker to herself when she noticed, because one of cookie-Dany’s legs had been broken off that had once been glued down by the icing, and she hoped that she wasn’t going to turn into such a ravishing, feral beast with Jon that it was an omen.

It was difficult to stop checking the clock every five minutes, but alas, the weather had calmed early enough that it was deemed safe to travel. Everyone began to round up their belongings, one by one bidding farewell and making promises that they would all keep in regular contact from now on. Missi and Marge threw her a minimum of seven winks as they filed in line for their goodbyes, whilst Arya whispered in her ear to send her photos and video of their newest furry addition the following day.

While Jon was busy seeing everyone else out by the door, Dany snatched up a post-it note in a vibrant color of lime and scribbled, in bold: **_unwrap me under the tree_** **.**

It was a silly idea she’d had in the shower, but still, she practically sprinted into the next room with her wine in hand, setting that down and stripping free of her sweater and jeans and socks, laying them in a semi-neat pile on the couch. Even in her haste to pack, she had managed to remember bringing a  _ matching _ set of red lacey underwear. That sort of memory under pressure was how she got to where she was in her career.

For added effect, she switched off all of the room lights, leaving just the illumination of the tree lights, then plucked a bow from the tree and popped it onto the top of her head. Lastly, she scooped up her wine glass, then perched herself on the rug right in front of the tree, crossing her legs nad leaning back on her free hand, awaiting once the telltale sound of the front door clicked and locked.

For as confidently as she was presenting herself, she still buzzed with nervous energy. Even on her second helping of wine, she couldn’t quite shake the jitters. It was a cocktail of heady, long overdue desire and a drop of  _ I-hope-we-don’t-fuck-this-up _ . She bit back a smile when she heard Jon’s huff of amusement in the kitchen, and she could only assume he had caught her note.

And low and behold, not a half a minute later he was stepping over the threshold, his progress coming to an abrupt halt as sudden as if he’d run into a glass wall. His gray eyes almost doubled in size for a fleeting moment, until he seemed to acknowledge the very real fact that she was, indeed, half naked under (or, in front of) the Christmas tree and that yes, she was expecting him to take her remaining clothes off.

His gaze turned dark in a beat, slowly raking over her form whilst torturing her further by taking his sweet time coming to her. Her breathing labored, and she had to force herself not to clamp her thighs together as her arousal heightened with every step he took.

Eyes never leaving his, Dany sipped at her drink before finding a safe place for it, then sunk her other hand behind her into the plush faux fur of the rug. Her heart was drumming a mile a second, her demure smile harder and harder to temper and faltering for damn good when he lifted his sweatshirt over his head and tossed it over his shoulder. A girlish giggle escaped her unbidden, subconsciously licking her lips with a sigh when his lean, cut torso was revealed to her.

Jon dropped to his knees, walking on them the rest of the way before his hands untangled her legs - for a blinding moment she didn’t know what he intended, until he slid her straight into his lap, her head falling back in a hearty laugh. He took advantage of the exposure of her neck once she was snug in his lap, her hands moving to loop around his shoulders while his lips traced the length of her neck.

She was grateful he chose to stay in his grey sweats today; he was half hard already, rolling her hips over him and drawing a heavy breath from his mouth against her collarbone. The soft pads of his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, one hand lifting to gently guide her face down to his, whimpering when his roving tongue plunged into her mouth. Her head was a jumbled mess, her skin feeling as though it had been flayed open for how it seared against his every touch. She poured all of the years of yearning and affection she’d felt for him into her kiss, clinging to him like a lifeline, knowing that she would need him to ground her the more pleasure wracked her.

They were both, in equal measure, fighting for air whilst battling over dominance, hands eager and unable to land on any one inch of skin for more than a second. He tugged her hips down, leaving no room for wondering whether or not he wanted this as badly as she did - not that she doubted him for even a second. He’d made it  _ quite _ clear over the past few days.

She relinquished her hand from the soft, silky confines of his luscious hair, letting her fingers wander the length of him from face to chest to his taut abs, his stomach quivering and lips parting with a smack when she skimmed the edge of his pants. Her eyes rolled to the back of her fucking skull when she discovered his weeping head, at some point, had been freed from his boxer briefs, her fingers grazing over it beneath the waist of his sweats.

His teeth snatched her bottom lip, his breathing halted when her hand dipped inside to stroke the firm length of him, a new layer of sweat blooming over her skin. Something in both of them snapped then, their eyes tearing open at what she thought to be in unison, the warmth and longing and reflection of soft tree lights reflecting from the dark pools of his inky eyes sucking all of her breath away in one motion. For a little while, they allowed themselves to breathe, but mostly they were caught up in some unnamable trance, until slowly, Jon lowered her onto her back and kissed her so sweetly she thought she might never want to leave this place or this moment again.

Jon’s forearms rested at either side of her head, her hands curling around his glorious biceps. Hunger won once more, her blunt nails digging into his flesh as he ground his clothed cock over her cunt, the layers of friction both relieving and aggravating all at once. He groaned into her mouth, her pelvis lifting to meet him in the middle, hands dropping to slither into his waistband and push down as far as she could reach. He broke away from her to straighten up to his knees, his muscles pulling beneath his pale skin making her mouth water, and it was game over the second his pants and boxer briefs were shucked off. His cock fell into view between her raised, bent thighs, flush and taut, her head thumping back against the floor as her cunt squeezed around nothing.

She was going to pass out just by  _ looking _ at him, nevermind when he was filling her up.

She shivered as his hands glazed down her thighs, teasing up her sides as the front of his thighs pressed against the undersides of hers, arching her back when his fingers found the clasp of her bra and the telltale snap and relief of pressure around her breasts gave him, the garment landing in makeshift pile off to the side.

His curly head reappeared in her vision, thumbing away wisps of hair around her forehead. He was studying her like she was the next wonder of the world, seemingly as caught up in this whirlwind of emotion that she knew - had always known - existed between them, but was never verbalized. Not in anything other than platonically, anyway, always hidden away in the deep, darkest corners of their hearts.

Charcoal eyes blinked a few times, face twisting into something overwrought by whatever it was that was spinning through his mind. “You’re perfect. Did you know that?”

It was asked with such reverence, his eyes dancing between each of hers, that it left no room for argument, her brows lifting gently at his declaration. She rubbed the curls at his nape between her fingers, the sensation so familiar yet now so new. Her heart was thrashing now, and it was just there on the tip of her tongue, and she could wait no longer. Taking his face into her hands, silently cursing the wetness gathering behind her eyes - thus resulting in a concerned wrinkle between his brow - she offered him a wobbly smile. “I love you. Did you know that?”

Jon’s eyes softened, glazing over for a moment as his lips twitched upward, dropping down onto his elbows so he could smooth his hands over hers still cradling his face. “I love you more than anythin’ in this world,” he breathed against her lips, eyes still fixed to hers, crinkling just slightly, “I always have.”

Thumbs sweeping over his cheekbones, she grinned freely now, “Always will.”

Dropping his head, Jon kissed her softly, moving his hands to bear his weight, tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue, but leaving her to chase him as he moved away to trail his hot mouth down the length of her jaw, the line of her neck, her breath hitching within her throat as he slid his body further down. Her hooded eyes followed the nest of raven curls, squeezing them shut against those plush lips capturing her nipple, shallow pants leaving her parted lips. She bowed her body against his ministrations, the other hand working her other breast in time with his mouth and tongue on the first. Fingers carding through his hair, she lightly scraped his scalp, his responding groan making her nipples peak harder.

Her free hand clutched the rug at her side, heaving pants blowing past her lips as Jon dragged his tongue across the valley between her breasts to pay the same attention to her other side, a desperate whimper freely falling from her mouth.

The only thing her short-circuited brain could conjure up was wondering how the fuck was Jon such an attentive lover, and was she going to wake up after this?

He continued his path all down her belly, her toes curling and hand falling to her side when he reached the edge of her panties. For a minute, he seemed to contemplate what exactly to do with them, whether to leave them on and draw this out further, or be rid of them. Thankfully, he chose the latter, peeling them away from her sopping cunt, the cooler air forcing her to force her legs together only to part them so he could slide the material off of her. If it was at all possible, Jon’s cock strained even angrier than when she’d last saw it, which was only inciting her greed to have him inside her.

Still, he didn’t have mercy  _ quite _ yet, cutting her a look so heated she was almost embarrassed by how wet she was becoming, even in the brief pause of his touch. She grit her teeth, hard, when he delayed even more, peppering kisses and little bites from her feet all the way down to the sensitive, soft flesh of her inner thigh, turning her into nothing less than a keening mess. His tongue surprised her as it paved over her tendon, pushing a gasp from her as he came so deliciously close to where she wanted him - whether by his mouth or his cock, she didn’t care anymore - but, infuriatingly, he only hovered over the seam of her cunt, puffing warm air over it before mirroring his techniques to her other leg.

“Gods, Jon, I’m going to die,” she whined, sounding pathetic even to her own ears.

He chuckled against the side of her knee, speaking against it, his voice raspy and an octave lower than normal, “not without me, you’re not.”

She arched her back out of frustration, as if he didn’t already get the hint, but the man did not relent, finishing his attentions against her foot before settling that leg over his shoulder. Dany licked her lips, sitting up on her elbows to see what kind of torment he was going to undo her with this time, the shadowed whites of his teeth just barely showing through his cocky grin. “Lie back,” he whispered, sucking in a breath as she did as such, working to relax her muscles in the meantime. She kept her eyes focused on the lights of the tree, but nothing was bringing her pulse down; in fact, it was leaping quicker than ever when her other leg was propped up over his other shoulder, her eyes drifting downward when she felt him lowering with them.

Trapping her lip between her teeth, he crouched low, eyes flitting up to meet hers for a beat before his fingers were spreading her open, eyes slamming shut and moaning when his tongue slid along her folds. A sound she’d never heard herself make tore through her throat, back arching off the floor. His nose nudged her clit, making her slap a hand over her mouth, then bite onto her finger when he sucked it into his mouth, flicking and sweeping with his tongue, dragging his lips over her bud to tease along her entrance.

He paused, giving her a moment to collect her breath and bring her heart rate to a normal rhythm, daring to peer down at him. His smile was sweet, brows lifting at the hand muting her mouth.

_ Oh. Right. _

Cheeks burning, she let her hand fall to her side, his locked on hers as he dipped down again. She fought to keep her eyes open, but it was fruitless; he was driving her fucking mad, his hands making sweeping glides over her inner thighs, tongue working her into a frenzy between her clit and her slit, and she nearly screamed when he sunk two fingers into her channel. If not for his steady hand, she was certain that the force of her hips bucking would have knocked him on his lovely ass.

“ _ Fuck _ , Jon,” she moaned, her release building and gathering somewhere in her belly and in her chest, ready to rip her open, his lips sealing around her clit and using some sort of wicked magic in tandem with his fingers pumping inside of her heat. Her hand flew to grip his hair, vaguely mindful not to pull  _ too _ hard, building and building, her blood rippling beneath her dewy skin, and then the flat of his tongue lapped over her and she was gone.

Shoulders pressing into the soft rug, body bowing toward him, her mouth fell open as a wail sung from her mouth, crying into the room as spots punched against the dark of her squeezed eyelids, her breaths having turned into nothing but staccato little pants, even as her back lay flat again. Jon collected every last drop of her, gingerly easing her down from her high. It felt as though unconsciousness was ready to claim her, until Jon released her legs and they fell on their own accord, igniting a snort from both of them.

She felt him before she saw him, her eyes heavy as lead, his coarse mustache and beard tickling over her chin. “You still in there?” He rasped, and she could hear his smile, returning one with a groggy nod and a hum.

Chuckling softly, the sound spearing her heart in the best way, he blanketed his body over hers, kissing along her jaw and nipping her earlobe. His want for her hadn’t waned a bit, his cock sandwiched between him and her pubic bone. Testing him, she arched again, shifting in a way that somewhat stroked his cock, his head falling against her shoulder.

“Little minx,” he murmured, rising up onto his knees and clearly ready to wipe her cheeky little smirk off her face, parting her lids open to prepare for what he had planned for her. He gathered one of her hands and linked them together, suspending them above her head whilst his other directed her legs to bend at the knees and pushed them forward cautiously, measuring her response so be sure he didn’t hurt her. Another blaze of heat coated her cheeks; even if he just had his face in her cunt, she was spread open for him now, practically bent in half. He drew in a shuttering breath and shuffled as close as he could, thighs sealed against hers, and then he was a hair’s breadth from her lips again, his pace slow as he coated the entire length of his cock through her juices, which had never ceased even after he had his feast.

Dany closed the sliver of space between them, slanting her mouth over his as she pulled him down further, devouring his mouth and breath catching as he nudged her entrance. His free hand tenderly kneaded her breast, thumbing her pebbled nipple. The first push was easy enough, giving away to a dull burn; it had been a long time since she had taken anyone into her bed, and while Jon was not her first, she was already hyper aware of the fact that all of those few measly hook-ups she had in Essos could never -  _ would _ never - hold a candle to  _ this _ . Where those were some of her most difficult times, finding temporary respite getting lost in another, it was never her pleasure they sought, but their own.

But  _ this _ … this was ready to destroy her, only to piece her back together again.

“You okay?” He whispered against her lips, his back muscles tense under her hands where she hadn’t realized she was probably a little too rough in her hold on him.

She nodded quickly, a cold sweat settling over her skin as his stormy eyes bore into hers, brow twitching as he thrust in to the hilt, their forehead pressing and rolling together as he filled her up so completely. With a testing roll of his hips, he gave them both time to adjust, the mild sting waning the more he moved.

Her hips moved on their own accord, seeking the friction and the need to see him shatter with her, to get as lost and tethered together as she hoped they’d always be, now. Jon pulled his face back an inch, her hands giving his a squeeze as he withdrew and plunged in again, and again, his rhythm a steady and satisfying one as she lay her head back down and kept her gaze on his, noting the gradual way in which he fought to keep himself together. His teeth gnashed together the more and more he drove into her, eyes fluttering just as hers to keep them open and focused, his brow furrowing the closer they reached their peak.

Without warning, she met his movements with her own, his balance faltering as he dropped to his outstretched elbow that had her hand pinned with a feral groan. His other hand took advantage of the position and he used the fleshy parts of two fingers to circle over her clit, echoing his sounds and craning her head toward his to mouth at his plush lips, his pace steadily increasing, fingers adding pressure to her clit in a maddening build-up. She slid her hand down to grab a handful of his ass, moaning at the sensation of his thick muscles bunching and springing back as he pumped into her, pulling him with every thrust because somehow she needed  _ more _ .

Seeming to sense this, she was suddenly being manipulated into another position, to where he was half behind her but hovering above her side, momentarily pulling out to nudge her leg open and over his hip. With an easy punch of his hips, their skin kissed, making her cry out at the sudden intrusion, twisting to reach back and cuff the back of his neck and force him down in a filthy kiss, and upon his next thrust, he bumped against something that made stars burst before her eyes, mouth dropping open with a sharp gasp.

“Good?” It was barely a word, more a desperate breath, and she nodded frantically, repeating the motion at what could only be described as an impossible pace. Her eyes shot open, drawing her eyes down and nearly combusting then at the sight of them joined together, the sound lewd and messy but serving to launch her further into oblivion.

Jon’s teeth grazed over her shoulder, his face contorted as he grunted with each push, his hand snaking its way down her belly to thumb at her clit, her head thumping against his arm that was braced over the rug beneath her.

“Jon…,” she keened, pleaded, his thrust becoming stilted and erratic, his fingers dipping to where they were joined and dragging up to coat her clit, an animalistic whine escaping her.

With one more slap of his pelvis against her, she splintered, her nerves bursting and burning all at once, a silent cry falling from her open mouth until her voice worked again, unabashed at how wanton and heady she sounded. With a few more strokes, he was right behind her, her eyes parting open to watch as his face screwed up as he drowned in it, forehead pressed to her shoulder with a wolfish growl that matched the looks he had been serving her all night. She nearly came again just to hear it, his breaths hot and damp against her skin.

For a time, they sat there frozen, save for the way their lungs begged for cool air, eventually ending with Jon falling onto his side after he withdrew his softening cock from her with a wince, collecting her immediately and holding her against his chest.

There was so much she felt she should say, yet the clouds that her head was in did not give way because she’d already said what she’s been waiting to for years, had just poured every ounce of her heart and soul into his.

No part of him wasn’t flush against her, and as sleep began to take over, she was vaguely aware of a chill giving way to where he had been laying, followed by a warm, wool blanket trapping the heat of their bodies within it, and Jon returning to hold her.

“Happy Christmas, Dany,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss against the back of her neck.

“Happy Christmas, Jon,” she managed, unsure if her voice actually carried outward, or if it was in her head.

Sleep found her easily that night.


	3. Like the Mighty Current Pulling You Under the Waves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY FRIENDS.  
> Sorry this took way longer than I intended, but here's our last chapter. Hope everyone is having a good start to the new year, and hope you enjoy!

Again, Dany was the first to wake.

And again, it wasn’t without a dopey smile etched into her face.

She had been up for some time now, simply enjoying their little cocoon, though at some point Jon had kicked off his side of the blanket and tucked himself back around her, laying nude in the open air like the northern barbarian that she always accused him of being. She’d forgotten he mentioned, in passing (though it certainly stuck with her) that he slept naked. Even though the cabin was heated, she didn’t know how he didn’t get even slightly cold, but at least she had a nice view to her left  _ and _ to her right.

Snow had fallen again that morning, and still continued to add onto the heaps they had gotten the day before. After a little while, she had slowly turned to face Jon, careful not to rustle him about too much. She didn’t know where she had misplaced her phone, and there were no other clock sources within sight, so she didn’t know how early it actually was, but she could tell by the grey light outside it at least was past seven.

While she had expected them to rut all night like animals in heat, it seemed that they both had been entirely worn out by the exciting events of the past few days. When she had woken up, they were in the same position they’d fallen asleep in, save for whenever Jon rid himself of his blanket. When she turned over to face him, her muscles stretched deliciously, sighing when her eyes landed on the finest ass in Westeros. He was lying on his stomach, his arm slung over her middle, his lips parted and pouty just like it always was when he woke. Curly hair was a riot of tendrils laying in a mop, so she lightly swept away the few over his eyes, adoring his long lashes sweeping over the tops of his cheeks.

She nuzzled closer to him, letting her fingers graze over the relaxed dips and hills of his arm and shoulder, the bristles of his beard and nesting in his perfect ringlets of hair. Her movements must have stirred him at least partially awake, his arm tightening around her on reflex and a long sigh leaving him. After a few seconds, his eyes blinked open, a sweet smile pulling at his lips when she filled his vision, which only made her heart pitter-patter wildly.

He made some noise of approval before gathering her in his strong hold, pressing her fully against his chest once he turned to his side. Dany melted into his warm touch - how he didn’t feel cold as ice she would never understand - and dotted little kisses over his pecs. His heart was a steady thrum beneath her.

“Mornin’, love,” his roughened voice greeted, catapulting her on the verge of cardiac arrest with that word, and that  _ voice _ .

"Morning," she smiled, trying to shield what had to be some putrid morning breath, but he was having none of it, sliding down so his face was level with hers and molding his lips to hers. Naturally, she wouldn’t resist him. “I have a surprise for you today.”

“Oh? This wasn’t it?” He asked against her lips, eyes drifting up to hers while his hand wound its way down to palm at her ass and pulling her closer, her smile widening.

“That’s the gift that keeps on giving,” she arched her brow, flinching when his fingers dug into the tender muscles. She was already feeling the after-effects of the evening before, and it was quite plain that Jon was recalling them as vividly as she, said evidence hard and firm against her thigh.

When she moved her head again, she frowned, reaching up to pluck the gift bow she’d, evidently, forgotten to remove last night, careful to not pull strands of her hair out as she then stuck it to Jon’s chest. "We have to drive to it."

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, slate eyes narrowing. While he did so, she admired his enviously dark, long lashes, and how they painted dark strokes over his irises. "Mysterious. Did you hit someone with your car coming here and need help burying the body?"

"Jon!" She pinched his cheek, which bunched with a sly grin under his continued teasing; she knew  _ exactly _ where he was going with this.

His face contorted to feign genuine recollection of one mortifying memory. "I seem to remember a couple incidents…"

Brows arching, she pointed a warning finger at him. "Do not."

His pretty lips twitched. "The  _ first _ being running the car over a gravestone-"

Dany squealed if only to silence him, cupping her hand over his mouth and shaking her head, but it was all in good fun. The mirth dancing in his eyes indicated he wasn't planning to comply, anyway. And he was tickled to death by it, nipping at her fingers until she pulled them away enough to hold hostage in his own. He rolled them over, then, completely at his mercy, pressing her lips together and pulling them inward to resist giving him the luxury of thinking he was  _ actually _ funny.

He was ruthless. “You  _ left _ the scene of the crime, and you bloody  _ peeled out _ and left tire marks over the gravesite!”

She spluttered, unable to even attempt to hold back anymore, an unabashed chortle freeing itself. “I was  _ horrified _ !” She squeaked.

“So was I, but imagine what that poor family thought when they showed up next time,” he struggled to contain himself, too, but was faring better than she, his hands pressing hers to the floor at each side of her head.

“You were only worried for a second and then you just laughed the entire way back home,” Dany argued, gritting her teeth to punctuate her point.

“I just couldn’t believe they gave you a license to drive, that’s all.”

She growled and managed to wiggle her hands out of his, with Jon pleased as punch, she maneuvered her legs in such a way that she was able to roll them over and straddle his hips.”I hate you,” she lied.

Somehow, this only ignited his defiance. “ _ What _ about that other time Cat let you borrow her car and you backed it into a light pole?”

Lowering her forehead to his chest, she groaned. “It was  _ raining _ .”

“Debatable…”

Jon snorted as she lifted her head to glower at him. “You’re never getting laid again. Just know that.”

His dark brows lifted in challenge, evidently ready to test that theory. “I doubt that very much,” his hands moved to palm over her breasts, thumbs tweaking her nipples in a way that had her inhaling sharply through her nose and goosebumps pebbling her skin. Already, he smiled victoriously.

Gods _ damn _ him.

Curling upward to hover his lips just over hers, barely touching, he said, “I have many years to make up for.”

He kissed her, none too gently, nipped and suckled at her lips until she was leaning forward to press him back down onto the floor. It was a wonder that neither of them woke up with sore backs, though perhaps that was because their bodies were too busy being sore everywhere  _ else _ . Or, at least, she was.

She ground her slick cunt over his stiffening cock, relishing in his hiss and his hands squeezing around her breasts. His tongue slid expertly over hers, swiping the roof of her mouth, hips lifting to seek her wet heat.

After a few more slides over him, she paused, opening her eyes to find his black and heavy mirroring hers. “Would you look at the time? Probably should start getting ready.”

Before he could snatch her back, she stole the throw that had long been discarded after they woke up, cackling at his snarling and laments behind her as she darted toward the kitchen. She didn't get that far, however; there was a sharp tug on the blanket and with a yelp of surprise, she gracefully tumbled onto her hands and knees at the edge of the oversized rug. She barely turned around in time to find Jon descending on her, legs bracketing hers, and a glint of  _ up-to-no-good  _ sparkling in his eyes as he crawled up the length of her.

She stifled the giggle bubbling up in her chest, leaning back on her elbows with a haughty eyebrow raised.

He mirrored her, hands planted to the floor on each side of her now. “Wasn’t done with you yet,” he practically growled, her attempt to thwart off the widening grin impossible now. As if she were truly trying to avoid him;  _ him _ , with his riot of curls cast askew every which way, a fading crease from sleep across his cheek, supple lips thinly parted in a sly smirk, and completely in the buff. He kissed her greedily, slow yet invasive, his tongue sweeping past her lips with ease, until he was lowering her down, hand cuffing her head to avoid any hard bumps.

With her eyes closed and drinking from one another, she let her hands roam over him - from the coarse stubble of his beard, down the tendons of his neck, over his contracting muscles from his shoulders all the way to his forearms. A gasp pulled through his nose when her hips rose to grind over his hard length, the thin barrier of the blanket ripped away a moment later.

“Are we really pressed for time?” He asked against her, so breathless it was a wonder how she managed to make out any words at all.

Pulling away, Dany tilted her head backwards to read the clock, upside down, on the wall, though he rendered her temporarily mute when he took advantage of the new exposure of her stretched neck, painting a line of wet kisses down to her collar bone. “We have an hour,” she about choked out, hands lifting to weave into his fluffed hair, a silent cry slipping past her lips when he latched himself onto her nipple.

His movements transitioned to something more leisurely, taking his time winding her back up until his blown eyes found hers. He flashed her a wicked grin. “Good. Flip onto your side.”

* * *

Needless to say, Dany barely remembered even taking a shower, let alone getting her thick hair to look at least somewhat presentable. She was slightly delirious from both Jon’s generous attentions, which left her muscles aching in all the best ways, and from what little adventure they were about to partake in. Her thoughts were swamped by that little white pup and the fact that Jon had been stalking the adoption page for gods knew how long...she was going to be overwhelmed by it, she just knew it.

Jon tried to pry it out of her, grumbling mostly good-naturedly that he didn’t like surprises, but he seemed to have accepted her reassurance that it would be worth the initial shock of it all. It only served to confuse him all the more, but there was an edge of excitement there, too, even if he wouldn't admit it.

While he got ready, Dany did a quick sweep of the place, picking up the dishes and various bits of leftover garbage from their get-together, giving the whole cabin a thorough once-over. Jon was relatively simplistic in his decor, hardly any random pieces of furniture or decor that might prove to get in the way of the puppy; everything had predictable shapes of squares and rectangles. They would need to make a pit stop not only to the pet store, but to pick up some safety bumpers for some of the sharper corners for when he got tall enough for them to become an issue.

A sharp whip against her arse had her gasping and flinching, wheeling around to Jon tugging on the shirt he just unrolled with a pleased smirk flirting on his lips. "Ready?"

Rubbing the offended spot on her bum, she nodded, accepting a bruising kiss as he slid into step with her.

If not for the snow and steepness of the mountain they sat upon - and  _ not _ because she was a terrible driver - she would've offered to drive. When Jon questioned why she was bringing a couple of spare blankets with, she waved it off as her simply not being able to ward off the cold from her bones that morning.

It seemed that he bought into it, if not a bit skeptically, but nevertheless they were on their way. She gave him directions in which streets to turn onto, though it was, thankfully, a simple navigation. She could  _ see _ his mind working to figure it all out, jaw set and eyes narrowing, scanning every sign and building they came upon. Dany had to force her gaze elsewhere in the event that she would crack and spill.

But, when she directed him to pull into the lot of the humane society, her voice edging toward a chuckle at his quizzical glance, she couldn’t peel here eyes away from the arc of emotion that swept over his features in what seemed like one whole second: genuine obliviousness, possibly a slight realization, a dash of high hopes, then complete disbelief of it all. And even as he cut the engine, she still didn’t want to tell him, explicitly, until he saw with his own eyes.

After they stepped out of the car, she fit her palm into his. “Do you ever wonder what happened to Fawn?” She asked nonchalantly, observing him with a sidelong stare.

A fond grin tugged up his lips as he held the door open for her, and whatever question he had he swallowed since Mel came up to greet them, shaking their hands. “You must be Jon. My name is Mel; I’m one of the adoption specialists here.”

Once more, Jon cut Dany a perplexed look before confirming as much. “I am, and it’s nice to meet you.”

Mel turned her warm eyes onto Dany, hands folded before her. “Shall we?”

With a nod, Mel then went into the back room where the kennels were, Jon turning to Dany the moment the redheaded woman was out of sight. She decided to speak first. “Arya told me about the rescued litter you’ve been stalking online.”

His eyes narrowed, playfully. “That little shit always comes out of nowhere, I swear,” he huffed, then relaxed his frown. “What does that have to do with-”

“Here he is,” Mel cooed, the familiar white fluffy pup held in her arms as she crossed the room, his nose going a mile a minute to sniff out the company in the room he could not see, though he certainly still had the demeanor of any typical puppy with his wriggling and yipping.

Dany took up Jon’s hand, his head only slightly beginning to turn to acknowledge her, but his jaw had fallen nearly to the hard linoleum itself, eyes fixed on the little one. She laughed softly. “I know this entire weekend has been impossibly overwhelming, for both of us...but I also think we’re both in agreement that we should probably indulge on certain opportunities that we didn't get to before."

Mel set the puppy down, and with his tail whipping left to right in a blur, sought out Jon and Dany, his nose ultimately bumping into Jon's knee after he had crouched closer to his level.

A wide, toothy grin split over Jon's handsome face, his hands cradling the pup's face and giving him soft scratches. Then, his brow wrinkled a bit, having caught sight of the red eyes.

"He's nearly completely blind," Mel supplied, Jon's slate eyes snapping up to her before drifting to Dany as if seeking confirmation. Dany nodded, though Mel continued. “He will be fully blind soon; the veterinarian believes him to only have about nine percent of his vision remaining.”

The puppy was making attempts at leaping up to lick and nip at Jon’s nose, pulling a boyish chuckle from him as he lightly tapped the pup on the nose with the least firm  _ no _ she’d ever heard in her life. She was beaming. Jon met her gaze, brows gently raised, holding her hostage even as he cradled the pup’s face and nuzzled his face into his fur. Jon Stark was reduced to nothing more than a little boy right at that moment, and she felt the giddiness in her bones.

“You’re serious?” He asked, studying her for any indication that this was all a terrible prank - as if she had it in her to be so cruel.

So, she scoffed at his mild doubt, shaking her head incredulously at him. “Of course I’m serious! Look at him. Could you imagine leaving here without him?”

With an easy smile, Jon regarded the fluffy little firecracker who was gnawing on the cuff of Jon’s sweater, tiny growls rippling through his throat when Jon tugged on it. “No. Definitely not.”

After twenty or so minutes, it was settled - as expected, there were no hiccups in Jon’s end of the background check, Mel reiterating the instructions she had given Dany a couple days prior. Once Dany wrote the check, shrugging off Jon’s attempts to pitch in, they thanked Mel and walked off to the parking lot. She let Jon have the honors of the first walk, so to speak, taking measured steps to allow the puppy to absorb his surroundings. The moment they stepped into the fresh, crisp air, his tail wound in impossibly quick circles, head whipping this way and that with all of the new scents.

“Do you have any names in mind?” Dany asked after a bit of wandering, taking up Jon’s free hand in her own.

Jon twisted his head to see her beside him. “I might, but I want to hear yours first.”

She frowned. “Mine? He’s yours.”

Her shoulder was nudged by his to gather her attention, to which she obliged with much amusement. “Ours,” he smiled, leaning down to press a warm kiss to her lips that were steadily drying in the winter air. 

Blinking, a prickle of both tentative hope and wariness filled her: what  _ were _ they going to do? She supposed she had another few days to figure it out - they both did - until her inevitable return to Torrhen's Square, to make sense of what steps they were to plan next.

"I was thinking Ghost," Jon said, snapping her from her thoughts. "He seems quiet for a puppy."

Dany smiled. "He does, doesn't he? I think it's perfect," she chirped.

Jon crouched to kneel, whistling lowly until Ghost flopped his way over and straight into Jon's legs, tumbling over them none too gracefully. Gingerly, Jon tipped up the pup's head to peer into his hazy red eyes. "Ghost," he said, receiving almost a ninety degree angle head rotation. "Good boy," he cooed, scratching the scruff of Ghost's neck.

Slowly, Dany came to their side, her presence picked up after a few seconds as Ghost completed a tongue assault against Jon's face before crawling over her legs to give her a proper inspection. She giggled; so far, he was every bit as able bodied as any other dog, just a little bit less nimble and a few beats slower in reacting to certain things. Mel assured them that would get better with time once his environment became more predictable and his ears and nose could compensate for what his eyes couldn't.

Dany was surprised, when she let her eyes fall to Jon to absorb the special joy that hadn't left him in the last forty five minutes, to find his eyes a bit red. Rather than catch him out on it, she laid her head on his shoulder, warming to his arm winding its way around her waist and a kiss to her head in response. "I don't even know how to properly thank you," he murmured against her head, while she discovered a ticklish area behind Ghost's armpit that had his back leg twitching clumsily to reach it.

"You don't," she said, "this was sort of our plan, remember? Just a bit out of order."

Jon hummed in agreement. "But we got there nonetheless.”

* * *

Before going back to the cabin, they made a stop to the little pet store to gather up some necessities. As was expected, though still a bit overwhelming, they were bombarded by adults and children alike that flocked to them to coo over Ghost. Though it was really nobody’s fault, not knowing the disability he carried, he had become fearful of the bountiful overstimulation between the increasing noise and strange hands trying to handle him - many of them without asking for consent first.

Jon wound up holding his little quivering body the rest of the time, after the fourth encounter with a toddler that simply didn’t know any better and was with a distracted parent, who screeched and stomped his way over to Ghost and forcing him to back into a small shelf. Luckily, he was too small to do any damage in that respect, but he was properly terrified. They didn’t want his first outing to traumatize him for life, so Jon found a more secluded area of the store, bundling Ghost up in his arms, tiny white nails clenching so tight against Jon that Dany feared he might velcro himself there permanently.

While they went off on their own, Jon softly shushing Ghost’s whimpers of alarm, Dany grabbed a cart and began to pile in all that they would need: the same brand of kibble that the shelter had been feeding him, bed, small training treats, puppy pee pads, various sturdy chewing toys to temper his teething habits, bowls, a crate, and a harness. Perhaps, she thought, they may need to invest in a specialized vest soon to indicate his blindness to avoid the hassle of frightening him everywhere they went. He was a beautiful thing, and gods knew he was bound to only get more handsome the older he got, so the attention was inevitable.

From across the shop, she signaled to Jon, pointing to the mountain of items in her cart, silent code to inform him she was preparing to check out. Even from where she stood in line, she could hear occasional squeals to those who caught sight of Ghost just in the short time it took Jon to reach her side again. When she looked over, she melted; Ghost’s eyes were squeezed into black slits, his front toes relaxed and no longer boring holes through Jon’s sweater, the poor thing already completely spent. Even amid the mild chaos, Jon still had an easy smile on his face, his eyes basically the shape of hearts while he watched the little guy sleep.

She had almost become so caught up in watching both of them, and dying inside at the tiny sleep whimpers and whines, that she began to hold up the line with nobody left in front of her. While she loaded the belt with what all that would fit, Jon slid past her, somehow having whipped out his wallet and credit card  _ and _ paying all without waking Ghost, and he was quick to dismiss her protests that she could have gotten it.

The ride home was easy since Ghost slept through all of it, nestled in her lap and keeping the cold at bay. It wasn't until Jon's car stopped that his head perked up, nose wiggling frantically to identify his surroundings. She let him down, keeping his leash loose enough that he could explore but reeled enough that he wouldn't overdo it and get ahead of himself. The moment he lifted his leg, slightly imbalanced, to empty his bladder, Dany clapped and cheered, accidentally startling him and cursing herself for forgetting already and not having treats on hand for better positive reinforcement.

"Good boy, Ghost," Jon added once he made it around the car to catch the tail end of his business. Together, they got on his level for thorough pets, partly to calm him and also to encourage his outdoor habits. “Should we bring him in before or after we’ve set everything up, do you think?”

“Hmm... _ no _ ,” she said with mild fervor as Ghost began to gnaw on her hand. “What about after? That way he’ll maybe associate his stuff with the whole house?”

Jon moved closer to kiss her on the nose. “I like the way you think. Alright, I’ll come grab you in a few minutes.”

“Sounds good,” she smiled, deciding that now would be a good opportunity to get some of Ghost’s sudden abundance of energy out of his system while Jon busied himself inside. “Come on, boy, let’s go for a little walk.”

Once Dany snapped on his harness, they went off to explore. Half of the walking time was correcting behavior, and as absolutely adorable as he was, she didn’t want to feed into bad habits. Her shoes, shoelaces, his leash, all were his favorite go-to victims, until he succumbed to his curiosity of the forest around him. They went slow, Dany grateful he was still pretty light and the harness provided a safe and easy way to keep him from stumbling too much over the branches and rocks scattered about under their feet.

It was really the snow, however, once they got into the area where it hadn’t melted, that got him the  _ most _ riled up, and Dany wished she was close enough to get Jon out there to watch how Ghost reacted with every step. Each cold touch to his paws had him practically jumping out of his skin, and actually jumping straight up into the air like some cartoon character, sending her into a breathless fit of laughter. Once he got courageous enough, he shoved his head into the short mounds of the cold stuff, withdrawing and seeking out Dany’s voice with his tongue flopped out and looking appropriately proud of himself.

They walked another stretch, offering him all the time he wanted to sniff out every bit of land that interested him, and by the time they reached the forest entrance again, he held the appearance of a brown dog rather than a white one. The shallow bits of earth that the sun reached periodically had given away to mud and muck, and there hadn\t been a good way to get around it except to cross.

“Holy shit,” she heard Jon’s bemused voice from the porch as he came down to join her. Ghost turned his head up and was already preparing for an onslaught of kisses and nips. Ever the parental figure and good sport, Jon didn’t mind the mess Ghost made of his jeans and sweater, kneeling to him and letting him examine that this was someone he would soon become very familiar with. “Looks like someone will be getting their first bath today,” he mused, chuckling.

“He might hate us by the end of the day,” she jested, attempting to untangle Ghost’s leash from his restless legs.

“Never,” Jon half growled, pushing to his feet, planting a sloppy kiss to her cheek before he took a few steps back toward the stairs, whistling for Ghost’s attention. And it worked - though he wasn’t heavy yet, he bolted and gave Dany’s arm a good tug and a yelp to go with it, following Jon’s call until he reached him ( _ after _ running into the stairs, another thing they would need to work on).

Once the front door closed behind them, Dany grinned at the set-up. It wasn’t much, really, which would be good for Ghost’s comfort, but the sight of puppy bowls in the kitchen and his cage set up near the couches was enough to make her giddy.

Dany collected Ghost up from the rug to save themselves the trouble of wiping down the wood floors, working on removing his harness and leash. Jon helped get her muddy boots off after his, the they walked together upstairs to the bathroom. Ghost practically bent himself backwards in half trying to figure out where they were. Jon switched on the tap, slowly and graduating so Ghost wouldn't startle.

To her surprise, and her delight, Jon stripped away his sweatshirt, leaving her to salivate over his exposed upper half. He caught her gaping and tisked at her while he plucked Ghost from her arms. "My eyes are up here, Dany."

She rolled her eyes with a huff and lightly smacked his arm with the back of her hand, pulling a raspy laugh out of him. "Like you wouldn't be in the same predicament if I was sitting here half naked with you."

"I have more self control than  _ that _ ," he pretended to be completely affronted, then smoothed out his features, Ghost nibbling on his thumb. "You should probably try to prove me wrong, though. Just in case."

She snorted, but while cut the tap and he began to lower Ghost into the shallow water, dipping his toes in and out first, she rid herself of her top and left herself in her bra. They were bound to get wet and change anyway, but she also knew that she'd never get tired of the way that he drank her in, or how he groaned just then because his focus had to be elsewhere.

Ghost flailed a few times, unsure of the wet stuff seeping into his fur, whining once he was officially standing on his own accord. While they praised him, Dany scooped up some warm water and softly massaged it into his layers of fur, Jon mixing in the oatmeal puppy shampoo. The water went from a light murky brown to dark opaque brown immediately. Ghost went to lower his nose toward the water and wound up dunking his snout, instantly throwing his head back and seeking out the nearest human to climb up, sharp nails digging into Dany’s arms.

“Oh no! Poor guy!” She adjusted him so that he wasn’t scoring her skin so harshly, Jon picking up his rear as Ghost tried to sneeze out all the water he had inhaled.

Jon chuckled softly, face twisted as if it had been one of the most tragic sights he’d ever seen, but it truly was. Puppy whimpers and scares were no joke, she was coming to find out, and now Ghost was beginning to shake in her arms. “I’ve got an idea,” Jon proposed, getting back to his feet whilst he hastily peeled off his mud-ridden jeans and socks, switching the water back on again after draining and rinsing the filth out. Dany shot him a knowing look between his eyes and boxer briefs which remained, and he only returned an incredulous one, gesturing to his crotch. “Can’t risk him tearing up the goods.”

Dany snorted loudly, startling Ghost further, ultimately feeling like the worst puppy mum ever as she held him close to her chest to calm him down. “You’re right,” Dany said quietly as Jon stepped into the bath, nuzzling her nose into Ghost’s fur, “don’t want to risk the hospital asking if I was the one responsible for such injuries.”

“At least I would hope it wouldn’t be by your nails,” Jon replied, eyebrows waggling. Playfully, she rolled her eyes and carefully handed off Ghost to Jon’s outstretched hands where he sat, using his foot to turn the water off again. 

Ghost was not pleased, putting up a thorough fight with yips and all, trying to worm his way out of their grips. Jon tenderly shushed him, lowering him into his lap where the water only reached to Ghost’s belly when he sat. “It’s alright, boy,” he murmured, holding him with one hand and using his other to stroke down his back. Even from the ledge, Dany could see his tremors weakening, his grumbles getting shorter and shorter. To hopefully make things a little easier, Dany followed suit until she, too, was left in her underwear, then stepped in across from the boys. Jon slowly stretched out his legs, keeping Ghost on his stomach, and Dany scooted in so that Ghost was properly sitting between them, his wet whip of a tail flopping out of the water to wag at her presence.

“Hi, baby,” she cooed, warming up some shampoo in her hands before gradually massaging it into his fur, getting the areas they hadn’t yet reached. Now the water was only a slightly cloudy brown since most of it had been drained.

Jon squeezed her with his legs, making her look up in time to catch him leaning forward for a kiss, to which she happily obliged. “I love you,” he rasped against her lips, kissing her again before she could say it back. A now-very familiar wet nose bumped up into their chins, making them both laugh and moan as their teeth smacked together. Ghost was none the wiser, his off-balance body trying to leap up to get in on it, too.

“Little bugger,” Jon teased, handling Ghost beneath his armpits so he could get the leverage he desired and lick their faces sloppy. 

Once he seemed to have his fill, Dany was able to steal one more peck from Jon. “I love you, too.”

The final battle involved getting Ghost to allow them to wash his head, which wasn’t dirty from the outdoors, really, but as they didn’t know exactly when he last was bathed, it didn’t hurt to freshen him up head to tail.

At last, their task was done. While Dany wrapped up Ghost in a soft towel and helped dry him, Jon went off to fetch them some dry clothes, though he came back with a lack of underwear for her. She lifted a brow in question, and he seemed to already have that very thought on his mind, shrugging nonchalantly. “Less obstacles,” he negotiated, setting his chosen clothes on the counter while he took up Ghost so she could dry and change.

“Incorrigible man,” she ribbed, removing all of her wet undergarments and toweling herself off while Jon simply enjoyed the show, fully dressed himself. When she plucked the clothes from the counter, she realized they were his: a plain black cotton t-shirt and grey sweatpants, which she rolled up to fit around her ankles, and tied the hem of the shirt in a knot at her hip.

Ghost was mostly dried and fluffed, and Jon was trying to run his dog brush through all of his layers. Luckily, his fur was still downy soft and the bristles were easily penetrable. On top of that, he seemed to be enjoying the rhythm of it against his small body, his eyes blinking so slow that they were barely lifting at all by the end of it. Dany smoothed her finger over his snout, until he gave up entirely and laid his head into the crook of Jon’s elbow, half asleep already.

“He’s had a rough go of it, hasn’t he?” Dany whispered, unable to help herself as she gingerly kissed the tip of his wet, warm, rubbery nose.

Jon set the brush aside and curled his other arm beneath Ghost’s weight, lifting him to rub his cheek over his head between his pointed ears, a content smile pulling at his lips. Dany, quite honestly, did not know how much more her heart could take with those two until it finally gave up and burst. “He has a lifetime of being spoiled rotten to make up for the rough days.”

Dany hummed, cupping her hand behind Jon’s neck and bringing him down for a kiss. “Thank you, Dany.”

“For what?” She mumbled, pulling away only enough to look him in the eyes.

“Everything.”

* * *

There had been no question as to what sort of boundaries they would instill in terms of where Ghost was and was not allowed access to. There were none at all, as a matter of fact, which they had mutually agreed to when they cozied up in Jon’s bed with Ghost tucked between them. At four months old, he’d already had a difficult life. Even if he might not remember it, his two humans would always be aware of that fact, plus his added blindness. He was already restricted too much from the world without his vision, and it felt totally immoral to narrow it any more by keeping him out of certain rooms or off particular furniture.

The only boundaries they would be setting were in regards to his safety. If he slept in their bedroom, they would always keep the door shut in the event he woke and got too curious in the night and tumbled down the stairs. Mel advised some ideas they could get on board with that would help his transition easier, such as placing a textured rug beneath his water and food bowls so he would know when he found them. To help him know where one or both of them were in the house, they could attach small bells to themselves.

For now, however, exhaustion seeped in and encapsulated all of them.   
  


* * *

As it turned out, a puppy was a labor of love, even if he was completely worth it.

As the days went by, they established somewhat of a routine, which would be good for Ghost to adhere to as much as possible. Potty training was a bit difficult, to no fault of Ghost’s, since it wasn’t unusual for accidents to happen, and he was still very new to most commands and the cabin and the people he lived with now. Luckily, since they spent most of their time downstairs, his accidents were on the wood floor rather than rugs or carpets. Jon and Dany tag teamed night time visits outside, leashed, setting their alarms for every couple of hours to walk him out to do his duty. At least in that way, it had been almost one-hundred percent successful. And as tiring as it was, he’d hardly peed or pooped inside the house at night, so they hoped he would soon learn to adapt the same rule to wakeful times.

Mel had mentioned the shelter had begun potty training a couple of weeks before Dany and Jon had brought him home, but since he was in a new environment, it was possible whatever progress he had made would relapse until he was more sure of himself and his whereabouts.

His diet, however, was the  _ very last _ thing they needed to worry about. In fact, it was the one thing they’d discovered he could get very vocal about when he normally was silent as his namesake. The little cheeky thing, just an evening ago, as Jon was trying to stand his ground in getting Ghost to calm down so he wouldn’t inhale and choke on his soft kibble, had leapt up and knocked the bits of food all over the floor. It scattered everywhere, but Ghost seemed to enjoy the puzzle of finding every last piece.

Jon had rubbed his forehead and sighed, defeated, so Dany ushered him into the living room so she could take over for a little bit. The man was patient as all hells, but she knew that sleep deprivation challenged even the most gracious people. Something she cherished about him was his level-headedness, though sometimes that translated into a stubborn, bull-headed human, not knowing when he needed to rest and not work himself into a mess of fatigue.

She supposed that’s partly what made him a good lawyer, though.

They then concurred it would be best to take turns napping, either on Ghost's schedule or not, so they could both operate as fully functioning people. Dany had dozed off with her forehead on the kitchen table during dinner the evening prior. That night, they trialled a new plan which was to split the nighttime wakeups so that one person got the first four hours and the other got the other four.

By day five, New Year’s Eve morning, Dany already felt a difference. Jon no longer bumbled about like a half dead person, and Dany was less forgetful, less inclined to accidentally put the milk in the cupboard instead of the refrigerator or forget what in the hells she had walked into the next room to do. At least with the revised schedule, they were guaranteed a minimum of four consistent hours of sleep.

For Ghost, however, he was blissfully unaware of the struggle. He was adjusting better and better each day, even if progress was slow on most fronts, but he appeared to be latching onto Jon and Dany quickly. They learned right away that since Ghost slept well in Jon’s bed without abandoning it in the night, to line the middle of the bed with puppy pee pads under the top sheet, for his inevitable accidents or leaks.

Jon had mentioned, in passing a couple of days ago, that he had wanted to take her into town New Year’s Eve night for drinks and fireworks. Nothing too fancy, he had said, but that he’d almost forgotten to bring it up with the puppy craze. Hells, she almost forgot he’d asked with how gobsmacked by drowsiness she was, until her mind came back to her.

Each year, Wintertown welcomed the public to participate in celebratory festivities to ring in the new year, which consisted of food stands, food trucks, local brews, and music. Historically, Dany and Jon had stayed home with friends to celebrate; in the beginning with sparkling champagne but their last one had been a little more adult with proper liquor, much to the ignorance of any parents.

Naturally, she agreed, even if she felt immense guilt leaving Ghost so soon. Jon agreed on that note, but fireworks were a terrible idea for a dog whose hearing was overly sensitive compared to those with their eye sight. Plus, Arya had graciously agreed to come and puppysit with Gendry in tow, promising that they would figure out a way to best muffle out the distant booms of the fireworks. Up in the hills and far enough away from the source, they were dulled enough, but surely Ghost wouldn’t take kindly to them anyway. He startled at the smallest things even now as he got used to the daily noises around the cabin.

Ghost, too, was gaining courage and sass. Two deadly combinations that had many of Dany’s socks being tossed into the trash bin, one of Jon’s scarves torn to shreds, and several tiny puncture marks marring their arms when his teeth and gums were especially bothersome. Even the leg of a kitchen chair had taken the brunt of his baby shark teeth, carving fine lines into the wood until the source of the grinding noise was discovered by Dany one afternoon.

His chewing toys only did so much, and sometimes Jon thought the poor thing only got more frustrated when he didn’t find relief, so Dany had made a call to Mel who informed them that they could try freezing smaller pieces of safe fruits or even chicken broth that he could gnaw away on. She let them know it could take several more weeks yet before the baby teeth fell out and were replaced by his adult ones, but that it could be sooner, as well.

There was also a natural teething gel that Jon went to pick up from the pet store, Ghost in tow to help filter some energy out of him, and Dany had taken that opportunity to pick up around the house a bit so Arya wouldn’t think they lived like barbarians all of a sudden.

The first thing her dear friend said when she walked in was: “You look like shit. Jon not letting you sleep? Or is it the other way around?”

Dany scowled and decided to let her inside rather than close the door in her face, giving her own a once-over in the mirror by the coat rack. She didn’t think she looked  _ that _ frightful, though there definitely were some pretty noticeable purple rings beneath her eyes, and she could do something with her hair instead of just piling it up into a messy bun atop her head.

“Very funny,” Dany remarked, making a mental note to layer on a little extra concealer for her and Jon’s eventual night out later. Arya jut her tongue out and began to rummage through Jon’s refrigerator freely. “You sure you can handle a puppy for a few hours? He’s the sweetest thing, but a little shit.”

Popping her head around the fridge door, she gave Dany a dramatically wide ear-to-ear grin. “That’s the very synopsis of all of my siblings, so yes. I can handle it. I’m excited!”

Dany smiled, taking up a chair beside her while Arya chugged back a water. Even if it had only been a few days, Dany felt like she was leaving her infant for the first time, almost too soon. But it would only be a small chunk of time, and the worst that could happen is a material item got broken or maybe Arya would love him so much she might dognap him. At least Dany knew where she lived.

“What’s that?” Arya nodded at the slip of paper Dany had been adding something to.

Laughing nervously, she held it up, revealing a written list of what she dubbed, at the top, “ _ The Fine Print _ ”. Below it was an absurdly long list of instructions on Ghost’s specific needs (and wants, if she was being honest. He just  _ really _ adored this one specific spot below his ear...).

Arya deadpanned. “Daenerys Targaryen...what the bloody hells?” She snatched it from Dany’s hands to read the two columns, eyes widening with each one before those identical colors of her eyes of Jon’s landed on Dany’s again. “You could omit, like, half of these! ‘ _ Four ounces of the cooked salmon with his dry kibble - not a gram less because he knows _ ’. ‘ _ Baby talk required. He knows nothing else. _ ’ ‘ _ He gets a kick out of it if you howl like a wolf after he pees or poops outside. Just do it. _ ’”

Dany bit back a giggle, shrugging nonchalantly, twirling her hair around her finger. “Go on, judge all you want, but just wait until you get a load of his face. Not to sound dramatic, but you would die for him.”

Arya simply rolled her eyes, letting the paper float back across the table. She opened her mouth to make a retort, but the front door opened, familiar clicks of puppy nails tapping on the wood followed by Jon’s own booted footsteps. 

The expression bursting across Arya’s face the moment she caught sight of Ghost, paired with the falsetto cooing, was comical, but the rate in which Dany practically threw her chair back to greet her boys was a little more impressive. She couldn’t help it - they’d been gone an entire _hour_ _and forty-three minutes_ and that was the most she’d ever been without either of them thus far. Well, since Jon had been back in her life, that is.

She was careful to approach Ghost at a normal speed, and her stomach twisted and warmed at how his tail picked up and nose turned up even before she knelt before him, hands out so he could know exactly who it was. “Hi, Ghostie. I missed you,” she peppered kisses all along his chilly snout, his mouth parting open in shallow puppy pants, which told her he was utterly spent and would need a nap in the not-too-distant future.

“Second fiddle already, I see,” Jon grumbled good-naturedly, but Dany was already on her feet to kiss those pouty lips that he so loved to torment her with, in various ways.

“I missed you, too. I didn’t even know what to do with myself after I cleaned every single room,” she kissed him one more time, pulling a pleased hum from him, ignoring Arya’s gagging sounds behind her.

“Alright, move over so I can meet my nephew already,” Arya half begged, though at least she was mindful enough to keep her distance so they could let Ghost be the one to inspect her. Jon had shot her a text earlier that day to keep her external enthusiasm down to a two rather than eleven.

Jon cleared his throat, suddenly putting on a serious face. “Kneel, sister.”

“The fuck are you on about?”

He cut her a  _ just do it _ look, to which she promptly rolled her eyes and did as commanded, forcing a giggle out of Dany. It was one of their gazillions of rules they established for Ghost’s comfort, this one in particular for as long as he wasn’t fully grown. It was easier for him to become familiar with a person when they got on his level, it seemed.

Already, the pup was bouncing about, smelling and hearing the new guest. Jon unclipped his leash and harness and let him cross the few feet himself to where Arya had sat completely, his feet stumbling over her legs but ecstatically climbing into her lap and properly attacking her with kisses and yips.

Both Jon and Dany watched with humor as Arya was dissolved into a cackling mess, hands secure around Ghost but no match for him and his onslaught. Jon slipped his arm around her waist, moving to kiss near her hairline. Since Ghost’s arrival, they hadn’t had barely a few minutes of time for just them, not that either of them were complaining, really. They were absolutely in love with their newest addition and had zero regrets, but Dany, in equal measure, felt eager to have that few hours with him tonight, even if the guilt was also waging war inside of her.

She leaned into him, taking advantage of those few moments standing there, an overwhelming feeling of  _ holy shit _ gripping her at the very fact that this was happening. That Jon was here again, in her life, hopefully permanently, that by some strange force they’d been brought back together exactly when and how they’d hoped it would.

* * *

For the next couple of hours, Ghost wore himself out as he warmed to his Aunt Arya, whom he adored. Since she was the first person outside of Dany or Jon that he met thus far - aside from the overbearing strangers at the pet store - they took it as an early positive sign that he would, hopefully, socialize well enough when he met everyone else. 

Dany had nearly forgotten how much gusto Arya Stark had, and it didn’t seem to have diminished in the last several years. She was mightily impressed how she managed to keep up with Ghost’s boundless energy. Not that she and Jon were incapable, but the sleep deprivation had hit them pretty hard, so they relied on their tag-teaming efforts and would continue to do so for as long as they needed to.

But Arya impressed them both - taking initiative to keep discipline consistent, volunteering to be the one to take him out for potty breaks even though Jon and Dany were both right there, and playing with him nonstop almost since she’d arrived. It gave them immense relief knowing that he would be in good hands, even if they trusted her already, but, well...they were just being overly protective about it.

As it approached evening time, Dany went upstairs to get herself ready, and Arya trailed behind her while Ghost slept at Jon’s side downstairs. “Gods, what’s it going to be like when you two have kids? Will they ever leave the house or will it be some Nicole Kidman a la The Others shit?"

Dany pulled a face, in part due to her reference but also because she hadn't put much stock in the idea of children with Jon. That was several steps ahead of her current state of mind and a tad overwhelming right now.

With that said, she supposed Arya had a point, as facetious as it was. A puppy did feel like what she presumed a human baby might be like, at least in terms of the love and dedication and every minute revolving around their wants and needs.

And maybe the amount of drool, too.

Still, she brushed it away. She definitely wanted a family, and knew that Jon had felt that way at least the last she knew, but one thing at a time. “I can promise you that no child of mine is going to be stowed away with boarded windows,” she laughed, giving Arya a weak push.

They walked into the bedroom and then the joint bath where Dany had hung up the black dress on the back side of the door, one of two she had brought as a  _ just-in-case _ scenario before going north. The restaurant they were going to first had a particular dress code, which she found a little bit shocking given the nature of northerners in general, but it was all in good fun anyway.

A little strangely, Arya had promised to take care of her hair so long as Dany didn’t compare her handiwork to Missi, who could make a profession out of dressing hair. It was an easy deal to make, and she only wanted some simple loose waves, so it wouldn’t be anything too eccentric anyhow, but wasn’t really in Arya’s nature to care much about the outward appearance. At least, nothing more than a casual appearance, but Dany happily accepted the extra hands anyway.

When they finished some thirty or so minutes later, Dany had to chuckle - she had, unironically, almost recreated the same look she had the  _ last _ New Years’ Eve she had spent with Jon. The black dress was a little bit longer, and her boots a little higher and lined inside with leg warmers, and she was sporting a black leather jacket all to keep herself as warm as possible once they went outside for the midnight fireworks.

“Now you look like  _ hot  _ shit,” Arya added cheekily with a cackle, dodging Dany’s right hook as she was trying to switch purses to a dainty one she could sling around herself under her coat.

“Gods, have you always been such a little shit?” Dany asked with a smirk, flicking her hair out from where it had trapped between her coat and back.

“Duh,” her friend responded, not an ounce of venom shared between them.

To perplex her further, Arya began to fuss over her before they would go downstairs, straightening her jacket, finger-combing her hair.

She decided not to bring it up, simply because they’d need to leave soon to catch their dinner reservation, and Jon still had yet to get ready - even if it would take him less than half the time to do so.

What they found when they did return was the sweetest picture, Jon having scooped up Ghost’s sleeping form and deposited him onto his chest where the both of them seemed to have dozed off. Dany tiptoed as quietly as she could in heels to snap a quick picture with her phone, then bent down to first kiss Ghost’s warm, dry nose, drifting to her left to do the same to Jon’s lips. “Jon,” she whispered, getting only a half-hearted grunt in response. She hummed a laugh, speaking against his mouth in an attempt to keep him in the present. “We have to leave soon.”

His dark lashes blinked open against the lights, coming into focus as his slate eyes scanned the length of her form as she straightened. Mayhaps he was still drunk off his mini nap, or just uncaring that Arya was just over in the next conjoined room, but he sucked his lip between his teeth and curled his hand around her thigh a little above her knee, squeezing meaningfully.

She made a show of widening her eyes and letting them dart to the side in Arya’s general direction, but he tugged on her until she was forced to bend again, snorting at his insistance. His breath was warm over her face. “You’re making me wish I made reservations for something else.”

Her skin tingled, prickling beneath her layers at the gruff quiet of his voice. “We might have time for that yet,” she mumbled, smiling coyly at the fat wanton pupils that were threatening to drown out the grey.

“Did you forget I’m still here and you aren’t even trying to be subtle?” Arya called across the room, making Ghost jump in his sleep and part his eyes open. Slapping her hand over her mouth, eyes wide as saucers, Arya offered a muffled apology.

"No worries," Dany reassured and scooped him up off of Jon, four paws all sticking up skyward as he tried to keep his eyes peeled open. "He should wake up anyway so he's all tuckered out for bed time," Dany remedied.

Arya approached with care, allowing Ghost to sniff her hands before petting him. The moment she did, he became uncontrollably animated, so Dany eased his flailing body onto the floor while he ran circles around Arya and whined. 

"I'm going to get ready," Jon announced, giving her bum a firm pat before disappearing up the stairs.

"Does he ever make any noise?" Arya inquired, sitting down and gently rough housing with the white fluffy ball of energy.

"Jon or Ghost?" Dany asked innocently.

Arya shot her a look.

Smirking, Dany shrugged. "Not really. Mostly just whimpers and grunts. Either he prefers the quiet or he hasn't found his voice yet."

As if his ears were burning, Ghost turned onto her, leaping up onto her legs with his tail whipping. She grinned madly, bending to scratch at either side of his neck. "You're just the best boy, aren't you?"

A couple minutes of coddling Ghost went by when Jon reappeared, looking positively divine (and unfairly so in such little to no time) with his hair half pulled back into a knot behind his head, head to toe in navy with a button-down shirt and fitted slacks. Dany sighed, Jon meeting her gaze after fiddling with the cuff of his shirt, a smile spreading across his face immediately.

Her heart pounded erratically, breathing shallowed the closer he became.

“Can you guys just leave already? Before the eye fucking turns into actual fucking?” Arya suggested fervently, groaning as they made a show of checking each other out just to peeve her further.

Jon tore his eyes from Dany to acknowledge Arya. “House is all yours. Don’t burn it down, but if you do, make sure Ghost gets out first - ow, fuck!” He rubbed his arm where Arya had delivered an impressive punch, Dany trying to hide her snort behind her hand.

There was a distinctive, pitiful whine that made them all look down and laugh as Ghost sat back on his rear and had his head tilted up toward the outburst, ears pinning back.

Naturally, the lot of them crooned over his worries before Arya was able to usher them out the door not a second after their coats were on. The night air was brisk and a little breezy, at least at the current elevation, the trees whistling with every light gust. But when she looked up, there was another car parked at the ready, twisting her head to seek Jon. He lightly pressed his hand against her back, shrugging. “It’s part of the surprise.”

She walked with him, lips tugging outward as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Surprise? What surprise?”

He pulled open the back door of the cab, a fancy SUV with blacked-out windows, helping her in as the combination of the black of night, rocks, and high heels weren’t the easiest combination to manage. “Well, I’m not giving that away  _ now _ ,” he smirked, pleased with himself as he shut the door and came around to join her at the other side.

Dany felt like a giddy little girl, their seatbelts tugged on as Jon gave their chauffeur an specific address that she couldn’t pinpoint the exact coordinates, but knew that it wasn’t the epicenter of Wintertown itself.

In the dark, she felt Jon’s hand curl around hers in her lap, giving it a squeeze. Since she knew she wouldn’t be able to see anything out the window until they actually got further into town, she figured she’d try to weasel the answer out of Jon instead. And when that didn’t work, she tried to seduce it out of him, but that ended up resulting in a makeout session that got nobody talking. It took her a minute to realize that was his plan all along so she would stop driving him mad and keep her hands to herself until they were somewhere private. At least that way, she’d gotten a small revelation, that they would eventually be alone somewhere.

In recompense he nipped her lip for managing to get anything by him at all, but before she could attempt to spur him on, their driver obnoxiously cleared his throat and announced their arrival. Dany was barely out of her seatbelt when Jon was opening the door for her, easing her out onto the pavement. The looming building with a bright marquee gleaming  **_The Direwolf_ ** greeted them, the streets and sidewalks littered with endless swaths of people.

As their ride drove off and Dany got a better view of where they were, she recognized it as the northern tip of Wintertown, typically reserved for the wealthy and upper class. The hotel that Jon was leading her into, hand-in-hand, was a high-rise in a sea of other buildings, car horns and brake screeches echoing through the air around them. The night life abundantly alive and thriving as midnight approached.

She was almost too stunned by the change of plans - or, rather, just that she had a different idea of what they’d be doing, not that she was complaining - she’d almost missed Jon checking them in at the desk, letting him lead her to wherever it was he was taking her.

The moment the elevator doors closed, she’d barely begun to form the words, and forgot them promptly as Jon pressed her to the wall, hands slipping under her coat to grip at her hips as he supped on her mouth. She whimpered against the abrupt move, but quickly looped her arms around his shoulders and lifted her leg to hook around his hips, uncaring as to the wanton manner in which her dress hiked up her thigh. His hand was quick to find the exposed skin anyway, bringing her flush against the growing bulge in his pants, groaning as -

The elevator  _ dinged _ to give them an entire second and a half to adjust themselves before the doors would open, leaving the both of them a breathless mess. The doors gave way to a large group of youngsters, and Jon had Dany go before him, undoubtedly to hide his erection since he wore slacks that would do nothing to hide it.

When they were secluded once more, his hand still in hers, stupid smiles stuck on their faces, Jon rummaged through his pocket to find the door key. They came to a stop several doors later, but Dany barely had time to even look for a light switch when they stepped in before Jon was all over her again, forcing a squeal out of her. He reached around the lock the door, pulling away only enough to mutter something about what time it was, that it was almost half past eleven after checking his phone and tossing it unceremoniously onto the bed halfway across the room. By some miracle it didn’t miss and shatter, his attentions back on her, hands making quick work of removing her coat and she returning the favor to him.

It was messy and hasty, her first dizzying orgasm hitting her like a ton of bricks with Jon’s head between her thighs and holding her weight upright so she couldn’t collapse over him. She’d barely recovered when he helped her onto the bed, shoving his phone out of the way, his eagerness feeding her own as she fumbled to remove every piece of his clothing. She thought she’d heard a few threads in her dress rip, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, the city light flooding the room through open drapes, moving together, leisurely, until they were both spent and sticky with sweat.

The bed was perched in the center of the room, which she’d only realized on her way to the bathroom to clean herself up, which made for a perfect view on the fireworks that would begin soon. The floor-to-ceiling window was splayed out before them, and Jon returned from the bathroom to join her, two flutes of champagne clutched in his hands which she could only presume was tucked away in the kitchenette.

“Thank you,” she murmured, taking a ginger sip while he took up a spot at her side where they faced the open view of the city and mountains sprawled out in front of them. He pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek and pulled a bed sheet over to wrap them up together, since neither had bothered putting any clothes back on.

Even inside and this high up, she could hear the crowd outside starting to get riled up over the countdown.

_ Ten _ …

“Do you remember our last New Years’ Eve together?”

  
_ Nine… _ _   
  
_

Dany smiled fondly. “Vividly. Margaery Tyrell ralphing all over my shoes, Theon Greyjoy having sex - or trying to - with some chick on the bathroom counter -”

  
_ Eight… _ _   
  
_

Jon nearly choked on his drink, eyes wide, then thought better of asking and made a motion with his hands to continue.

Laughing, she notched her chin onto his shoulder. “Don’t worry, it was cleaned up before the morning. Anyway...I also remember something else,” she raised her eyebrows as he turned so that his nose was just brushing hers.    
  
_ Seven… _ _   
_ _   
_ “Our  _ almost _ kiss.”

Jon grunted, soft lips curving into a familiar smile. “Aye. Me, too. What was your resolution?”

_ Six… _

She had to stew on it for a moment, downing a hearty gulp of champagne. “That I would succeed in my business venture and that I’d be able to see you again to kiss you whenever I wanted. More like wishes, really. You?”

_ Five... _

His face was unreadable, but soft and open. “Nearly identical.”

_ Four… _

He paused, then faced the window again nodding to coax her attention outward with him

_ Three… _

“Close your eyes,” he said quietly, gruffly, Dany grinning with familiarity as she tried to conjure up some sort of new resolution. Funnily enough, she couldn’t think of one at all.

_ Two... _ _   
  
_

_ One… _

The hoards of people outside was quickly drowned out by what she knew was an impressive display of lights splitting over the sky, painting it in extravagant streaks of color. Jon kissed her on the mark of midnight, then muttered just barely over the popping and thrumming of the explosives. “Open them.”

She did, a little shocked to find him kneeling in front of her when she couldn’t remember his weight leaving her side. Frowning deeply, she watched as he fully dropped to his knees, the overwhelming realization of what was about to happen when she caught a glimpse of a small, black box in one hand. Already, her breathing seized, heart quickening to force blood in the muscle and keep her mildly conscious.

Jon peered up at her, a jarring mix of the boy and the man that she loved, had always loved, until that image blurred by tears invading her eyes.

His empty hand was cuffed around her thigh. “Mine was a little different,” he said, “I told myself that the next time I saw you, I couldn’t make myself let you go again. So…,” he cleared his throat, dropping his eyes and bringing the box to center, then met her watery gaze again. “How about no more almosts, Dany?”

The lid popped open, revealing a stunning pear-cut diamond, glinting brilliantly in a rainbow of colors from the fireworks, her tears coming in hot and fresh and relentless now. She could scarcely breathe. “Do you want to marry me?”

The bloody man, always giving her the option to make her own decisions, even if he knew it would break his heart should she ever have the shriveled brain to do such a thing. Her throat constricted and she could no longer trust her words to come out sensical, so she nodded enthusiastically, a relieved huff puffing between his lips. Gently, he took her left hand and slid the ring down the length of her finger. “Missi helped me with the ring size,” he muttered, brows now dangerously close to fusing once the ring sat on her finger, trying to determine whether or not it was a good fit, but she was impatient and tugged him up to kiss him thoroughly.

She didn’t let him go until they were getting whoozy from the lack of oxygen. “The other day when I had to run into town...it wasn’t for Gendry to get anyone’s gift.”

She eyed him with wonder, then shook her head incredulously. “I should have known. It was so abrupt."

“I knew the moment I saw you again,” he murmured, “that I couldn’t let you go again. Assuming you weren’t already spoken for, of course, or had gone off me by that point.”

Her wobbly smile pushed fresh tears from her eyes, shaking her head as she cradled his face with her hands. With one more tender kiss, he came to sit next to her once more, pulling her across his lap and tucking her under his chin as the fireworks display continued to stretch over the night sky, flooding prettily into their room. With a silly, delirious smile, Dany let her eyes drop to the gem on her finger, so utterly overcome with emotion and feelings and nevermind the changes in circumstances. Good changes, happy ones. Tipping her chin up, she gently turned Jon's toward her to kiss him, long and sweet.

“So…,” he began, voice roughened, “either I’m coming back home with you, or you’re staying here with me, aye?”

She chuckled quietly, nodding. “Might be easier for me to stay here since my work can be done almost completely remotely. I can always commute for meetings a few times a year.”

His brows raised gently at that. “You sure? I wouldn’t mind; I don’t want you to uproot-”

She silenced him with her lips. “I don’t want you to give up this place, and believe me when I say I don’t want to give it up, either. Plus, your office is right here. Moving in with me would tack on at least two hours,” she wrinkled her nose at the thought.

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

They remained like that, sitting and absorbing and wrapped up in one another for well after the fireworks had died down to just a few crackles here and there. They finished off a bottle and a half of champagne and ordered a meat and cheese tray up to their room, and Jon’s intention had been for them to stay the night, make a thing of it. But when it came time to sleep, they both sought the other out at the same time, Dany rolling over in his arms to check if he was awake.

She could only make out the dull glint from the sliver of light between the curtains reflecting in his open eyes. “You miss him too, don’t you?” He asked.

Nibbling her lip, she nodded, brows twisting in the hopes that she wasn’t about to disappoint him, but he shot out of the bed and was on his phone ordering them a return ride to the cabin. 

“Me, too. Let’s go home.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Until next time!


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